


home isn't a place

by Spikedluv



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Appearance by Chris Argent, Appearance by Lydia Martin, Appearance by Noshiko Yukimura, Appearance by Satomi Ito, Appearance by Scott McCall, Appearance by Sheriff Stilinski, Cameo by Allison Argent, Cameo by Danny Mahealani, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 19:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: Ithaca, New York is known as a sanctuary within the supernatural community, and Cornell University is where creatures such as Kitsune and Selkies can safely attend college.  Though Stiles doesn’t think he’s anything special (despite having a ‘spark’, whatever that is), he attends on Satomi’s recommendation; he wants to learn everything he can about the supernatural world so he can return to Beacon Hills and help Scott.The last person Stiles expects to run into at Cornell is Derek Hale.  Derek is gruff and grumpy, but despite that Stiles is drawn to him.  When someone begins murdering supernatural students Laura Hale takes Stiles under her wing.  Between attending class, hanging out with Kira, adopting a dog, and keeping score for the baseball team, Stiles investigates the deaths to figure out who’s killing his fellow students before he ends up a victim himself.Through it all, Stiles learns the real meaning of ‘home’.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Sterek ReverseBang on Tumblr](https://sterekreversebang.tumblr.com/).
> 
> The title is from the saying, home isn’t a place, it’s a person, which apparently has several variations and sources.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Show-level violence. Mention of an animal being injured and dying previous to the start of the story. An alpaca gives birth.
> 
> *flails* So many thanks to Jen/[froggydarren](https://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) for creating the artwork that inspired this story. I can’t tell you how excited I got when I saw this piece, and how thrilled I was when I received it (my first choice!!!) during art claims. I loved that it was a college!au, and a baseball!au, but more importantly I was ecstatic that it took place at Cornell University. (For those of you who don’t already know, I live I upstate NY, and I even visited Ithaca a time or two when I attended college near there, and so this piece of art spoke to me like you wouldn’t believe. There was a lot of flailing when I first saw it, and even more when I was assigned it to write for. *takes deep breaths* So. Excited!) Be sure to check out her [art post](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/post/161886324424/an-art-entry-for-the-sterekreversebang-fic) and give her all the love!
> 
> The story is ~45,000 words in four chapters; I had so many notes that I wanted to include (I did a lot of research, okay?!!) that they wouldn't fit in the end notes section. o_O
> 
> Posted: June 16, 2017
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://imgur.com/6WQb09k)   
> 

It was a forty-four hour drive to Ithaca, New York from Beacon Hills, but Stiles had decided to take the Jeep instead of flying out just in case. Just in case of what, he didn’t know, but Stiles didn’t want to be without transportation if anything – supernatural or otherwise – should come up. Stiles had assured his dad that he could make the drive by himself, but his dad insisted that he hadn’t taken a vacation in a long time and that a road trip together before Stiles went off to college would be fun.

They left Beacon Hills on a Saturday, which gave them six travel days before they had to be at Cornell for move-in day the following Friday. The Jeep was supposed to be loaded before Stiles went to bed Friday night, but Scott stayed over and so Stiles was scrambling to pack up the last minute items he needed to take with him and finding room for them in the back of the Jeep where space was at a premium. They ate a quick breakfast at home – his dad got a bit misty-eyed when he said it would be the last time he could cook breakfast for Stiles. While his dad was doing up the dishes and taking out the trash bag so it didn’t stink up the kitchen while they were gone, Stiles filled two travel mugs with coffee and said a last goodbye to Scott.

Stiles and his dad took turns driving and they stopped often – to fill up the tank (theirs and the Jeep’s), for bathroom breaks, and to stretch their legs. Stiles also had a list of places he wanted to visit during their road trip, like the Wyoming Territorial Prison Museum, the World's Largest Time Capsule, the Ice Caves of Wyoming, and the Monument to the First Train Robbery in the West. His dad shook his head, but took the turns Stiles told him to and even let Stiles take his picture standing in front of Joliet Prison. In return Stiles was forced to enjoy the views of Salt Lake City and the Classic Car Collection, but it was totally worth it to see the tension ease out of his dad’s shoulders.

Stiles pulled the Jeep onto the Cornell University campus at ten am on Friday morning. There were only three cars in line ahead of him to unload when he pulled up in front of Clara Dickson Hall. Stiles was glad he’d taken the advice to arrive during the latter part of the allotted time slot for first-year students with last names beginning with P-Z. While they waited their turn, Stiles and his dad got out of the Jeep. Grinning, Stiles pointed out the sand volleyball court near the dorm. It wasn’t the main reason he’d chosen Dickson, but it was a nice perk.

A guy wearing a red volunteer t-shirt walked over to the Jeep and interrupted Stiles’ dad from telling him, for the thousandth time, to be careful he didn’t break his neck. The volunteer glanced at the windshield to make sure there was an unloading permit on the dash, then brusquely said, “Last name?”

“Stillinski,” Stiles said.

The guy had a nicely-trimmed beard and really pretty eyes that weren’t diminished by the gruffness of his tone or the frown pulling at the middle of his forehead.

“You can just call me Stiles,” Stiles said when the guy’s – Derek, according to his name tag – eyes stopped moving down the page and his frown deepened.

Derek raised his eyes to Stiles and said, “Mieczyslaw?”

Stiles’ mouth gaped when Derek pronounced the name perfectly, and he could’ve sworn that the corners of Derek’s mouth curled up at Stiles’ surprise.

Stiles’ dad stepped in. “Yes,” he said, reaching out to close Stiles’ mouth. “Congratulations on leaving my son speechless.”

“My pleasure,” Derek said, turning his gaze to Stiles’ dad. His expression shuttered. “It’ll just be a few more minutes before you can move up.”

“No problem,” Stiles managed to say. He watched Derek walk away to greet the student in the car that had just pulled up behind the Jeep. Derek wore the same ‘uniform’ as the other volunteers – a red t-shirt, khaki shorts, and white sneakers he’d shoved his feet into without socks – and Stiles found his gaze going back up to appreciate how well Derek’s ass filled out the shorts.

Beside Stiles, his dad sighed. “Seriously, Stiles?”

“There’s no law against looking,” Stiles said, glancing at his dad, who was also staring after Derek. The corners of his eyes were crinkled, which meant he was trying to figure something out. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” his dad said. “Let’s go check out that volleyball court.”

They walked over to the sand court and Stiles introduced himself to another student who wandered over. Her name was Kira Yukimura and she was from New York City. Stiles’ spidey sense tingled when they shook hands, and when he glanced at Kira’s mother Noshiko he found her studying him in return. Stiles was curious, but he didn’t say anything in front of his dad.

Stiles’ name was called to move his vehicle up. He and Kira quickly exchanged room numbers before he ran off to move the Jeep, his dad following at a more sedate pace. Since a licensed driver had to remain with the vehicle, his dad unloaded the back of the Jeep while Stiles carried everything into the dorm, piling it where another volunteer in a red shirt told him to.

On one of his trips back out to the Jeep, Stiles saw his dad and Derek in what looked like a pretty serious discussion. They broke it off when they saw Stiles approaching.

“Everything alright?” Stiles said, noticing Derek’s stiff back as he returned to his task of directing new students.

“Yes,” his dad said. “I was just talking to Derek.”

“Okay?” Stiles said, but he forgot about it after three more trips into the dorm.

Once Stiles had gotten the key to his room and transferred his boxes (he’d packed everything into plastic containers that he could stack together and store under his bed once they’d been emptied) to his room, he and his dad moved the Jeep to the parking lot Stiles had been assigned. (Although the school didn’t recommend students bringing cars to campus, it hadn’t been too difficult for Stiles to get the permit he needed to do so.)

Stiles was in no hurry to unpack his room, so he and his dad walked back instead of taking the shuttle, giving them a chance to explore the campus. Stiles hadn’t visit the campus before applying (and accepting), but he’d known that Cornell was one of his top choices and so he’d scoured the Cornell website for information, as well as Skyped with a couple of students and met with a recruiter in Sacramento.

The first thing Stiles wanted to see was the suspension bridge over Fall Creek which offered ‘stunning’ views of the gorge. He’d seen photos online, but he couldn’t wait to see for himself. Stiles pointed out all the hiking trails to his dad and joked that would help keep him from gaining the ‘freshman fifteen’. In reality Stiles needed to keep in shape for outrunning werewolves, wendigos, and ifrits, but his dad didn’t need to know that.

Stiles’ dad checked into The Statler Hotel and dropped off his overnight bag while Stiles found Barton Hall on the campus map. He and his dad headed there next so Stiles could get his student ID. Their next stop was to find something to eat. Once they were sitting, they went over the orientation schedule again, even though Stiles had highlighted it to within an inch of its life (color-coded, naturally), and filled out the planner in his tiny scrawl.

There were so many events during orientation that Stiles could choose to attend, and some that were required, that he wouldn’t have time to get homesick. Which was probably the intent. The events that evening included meeting his RA, meeting his Orientation Leader, and something called First Night that ran to one am. Before that was a Welcome Reception followed by a Welcome Dinner.

There were also orientation events for family, and Stiles’ dad attended ‘Just For Families’ while Stiles took the required swim test. When they met outside Ives, Stiles’ dad suggested they pick up Stiles’ textbooks since The Cornell Store wasn’t that far away from Ives, and then start unpacking so Stiles didn’t have to do it in the middle of all the other orientation events scheduled for the next three days.

Stiles left his door open while they unpacked because the organized chaos of everyone else moving in and unpacking soothed him in a way that absolute silence didn’t. A couple people poked their heads in and introduced themselves. Stiles didn’t see Kira again until the reception. The Yukimuras sat with Stiles and his dad at dinner, following which Stiles and Kira walked back to their dorm together for the ‘Meet Your RA’ event while their parents headed to the ‘Cornell Parenting 101' event.

Kira and Stiles went to First Night together, and even though they’d eaten dinner a few hours ago, gorged themselves on the variety of food available from the food trucks. Thankfully there were live performances so they worked off the calories by dancing.

Stiles didn’t see his dad until eleven the next morning, after his required attendance at Convocation and a tour of the libraries. Stiles figured he was going to be spending a lot of time there, but he was most interested in getting a look at their rare book and manuscript collection because Satomi had mentioned that he could find a lot of information there about supernatural creatures.

Stiles and his dad got an early lunch and then meandered around the campus (Stiles spent some time checking out the offerings at the Dump and Run Sale to see if he might find something for his dorm room) until it was time to meet up for the guided scenic walk around Fall Creek Gorge and Beebe Lake. When they returned from the hike, Stiles and his dad got themselves a glass of lemonade and a lanyard from the ‘Lemonade, Lanyards, and Life Advice’ event, and then headed to the Office of Academic Diversity Initiatives’ event, which was important to Stiles and his dad for very different reasons.

Kira had mentioned that she wanted to attend that event as well, but Stiles didn’t see her among the people crowded into the Auditorium. They’d exchanged numbers yesterday, so he texted her after the panel to ask about supper; they’d made tentative plans to meet up for the meal and Stiles was looking forward to seeing Kira again even though the way her mom looked at him made Stiles squirm inside. They went off-campus for dinner at The Boatyard Grill, which was located right on Cayuga Lake, and then separated again once they returned to the University. Stiles and Kira had a ‘Cornell Essentials’ event followed by second meetings with their RA and Orientation Leader respectively. They met up after their meetings and went to the ‘Silent Disco’ together, but after two very busy days and nearly a week of driving, Stiles was exhausted, so they wandered over to see what movie was playing at the ‘Movie on the Slope’ event.

It was nearly one am again before Stiles got to bed, but he was up before six am so he could get breakfast with his dad and see him off on the shuttle that would take him to the Ithaca Tompkins Regional Airport, where he would start his journey back to Beacon Hills. Even though he’d been kept too busy to get homesick, Stiles knew that it would hit him once his dad was gone. This would be the first time Stiles was away from home for an extended stay, and he was both excited and terrified.

Stiles went back to bed until Kira woke him up a few minutes before ten o’clock and dragged him to Zumba in the Court-Kay-Bauer Quad. There was a text from his dad that he’d made it safely to Syracuse Hancock and was waiting for his flight out. Stiles and Kira grabbed an early lunch from the nearest food truck, Louie’s Lunch, after Zumba. Stiles got a hot mocha and the chicken cheese fries; Kira got a Snapple and a spicy chicken wrap. They found a place on the grass to sit and took their time eating while they went over the orientation schedule for that day and the campus map.

As soon as they finished eating they headed for the ‘Learning Where You Live’ event at Tatkon Center. The idea of taking a variety of one-credit courses fit Stiles’ personality. They served lunch, so he and Kira ate again. Stiles groaned. He’d been joking, but he might have to take up running to stave off the ‘freshman fifteen’ at this rate.

Since ‘Time Management and Study Strategies’ took place in the same room (and both Stiles and Kira wanted to attend it), they hung around for the half hour before it started. They caught the tail end of ‘161 Things Every Cornellian Should Do’ and then it was back to Tatkon for the ‘Campus Puzzler Walking Tours’.

They made another pass at the ‘Dump and Run Sale’ and for five dollars Stiles became the proud owner of a hot pink bean bag chair. Kira made sure Stiles didn’t run into or trip over anything as he carried it back to his room. They separated for a quick shower (Stiles scoffed when Kira said that, but she was ready before he was – he couldn’t help it that he was easily distracted) and then headed back to Takton for ‘A Global History of Love’ followed by a brief appearance at the ‘Annual Cornell University Block Party’ (where they ate once again) before they had to attend the mandatory ‘Speak About It—Consent and Healthy Relationships’ event.

Following that was a screening of Akira Kurosawa’s The Hidden Fortress (1958) at the Willard Straight Theatre. The movie was the inspiration for George Lucas when he made Star Wars, and Stiles couldn’t believe his luck that they were showing it. Stiles’ dad had called during the movie, so Stiles called him back when they exited the theatre. ‘Game Night’ lasted until one am and Stiles learned that Kira was as competitive as he was; and that they made a good team.

Stiles was bleary-eyed the next morning when Kira woke him up for ‘Trail Running in Ithaca’, but since he’d told her he wanted to attend that event he couldn’t blame her. They made it back in time for ‘If Inequality Is the Problem, What’s the Solution?’

Stiles hadn’t had breakfast, so he was starving when lunch time rolled around. Since Stiles was going to be taking some Botany courses he attended a guided tour of the Plantations. Kira went with him because she thought it would be pretty, and she wanted to be familiar with the entire campus in case anything happened. Stiles applauded her foresight.

On the way back to Dickson for the final required meeting with their Orientation Leader they hit the ‘Movie Poster Sale’ at Willard Straight Theatre where Stiles found a poster for the new ‘Man of Steel’ and the classic ‘The Wolf Man’. Stiles thought it was appropriate that he was wearing a sweaty t-shirt when he and Kira turned up for the official Class of 2020 Photo.

There was enough time after the photo to return to Dickson for a shower before the ‘Hillel Welcome BBQ’. Stiles scarfed down burgers and watermelon, and then headed back to Willard Straight Theatre for popcorn and a slew of coming attractions trailers. Kira begged off so she could call her parents, but they met up later at the ‘Camp Out for the Environment Meet and Greet Campfire’ for s’mores.

Kira agreed to attend the screening of Hayao Miyazaki’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), but they both eschewed popcorn or candy. Since it was only about eight-thirty pm in Beacon Hills when he got back to his room, Stiles called his dad. Stiles filled his dad in on the various events he’d attended the past two days, and his dad told him that Scott and Allison had invited him to dinner and that there had been a dozen speeding tickets issued the week he was gone.

It was midnight before Stiles crawled into bed, and even though he’d been on the go almost constantly for the past three days, not to mention the week-long road trip before that, he found it difficult to fall asleep. He knew that Scott would get along without him, that he had both Deaton and Satomi to help him, but he couldn’t help worry.

It was a departure when Stiles woke to his alarm on Tuesday morning instead of Kira’s knock on the door. He’d showered late yesterday afternoon, so Stiles used the time he’d allotted to that to double-check his morning class schedule and make sure he had everything he needed in his backpack since he was unlikely to be able to return to his room between classes. Stiles got dressed in a t-shirt with a plaid flannel shirt over it, a pair of tan slacks, and his broken-in sneakers. When he left his room it still felt like every first day of school ever.

That changed quickly. Stiles only had time to grab a cup of coffee from Carol’s Café in Balch Hall before he hurried off to his first class: Elementary Latin because Lydia threatened his life if she continued to be the only one of their group who could read the Argent Bestiary in its original language. He had a break before his next class – Identifying Herbs & Their Properties – so he went to the nearest dining hall to grab some breakfast. He shot off a text to Lydia – in Latin – and then looked over the syllabus for his Botany 1101 class.

Stiles and Kira both had a break at noon, so they’d agreed to meet for lunch. Stiles’ afternoon was free except for a meeting with his advisor. Even though they’d exchanged e-mails, spoken on the phone, and Skyped once, Stiles was a little bit nervous about finally meeting Professor Malcolm Hughes in person. The man had looked unassuming, with his unkempt hair and the glasses perched on the end of his nose, but Satomi had given Stiles a look when he mentioned that to her, and merely said, “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski,” Professor Hughes said, looking between the two students waiting in the hallway as if he hadn’t seen Stiles before.

Stiles straightened from the wall, observing silently that two people at Cornell had managed to say his name correctly. “Stiles, please,” he said.

Professor Hughes nodded his head in an absent fashion even though he and Stiles had had this very same conversation before. “Please come in, Stiles.”

Stiles followed Hughes into his office, which was a curious combination of tidy and messy. Hughes’ desk was neat, items lined up with military-like precision, but open books were scattered across the top of a table beneath the window.

“Excuse the mess,” Hughes said as he carried a chair from the table to the front of the desk, where it apparently belonged, and gestured for Stiles to take the other. “I’m in the middle of a research project. How are you finding Cornell so far?”

“Exhausting,” Stiles said. “But on the plus side I haven’t had much time to miss my dad or Scott.”

“Ah, yes, and how is Scott doing?”

“Good,” Stiles said. “Why? Did Satomi say something?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you . . . Scott’s doing fine. At least he was when I left.”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Hughes said, and then switched tacks. “I looked over your class schedule; are you happy with it?”

“When can I get to the good stuff?” Stiles said. Like Advanced Mythological Creatures, which would actually be helpful.

“I know you have an inquisitive mind . . .”

“Is that a polite way of saying that I’m nosy?”

Hughes smiled. “I wasn’t trying to be polite.” He leaned back in his chair. “I know you’re here for different reasons than some of the students . . .”

“How many of us are there?” Stiles said, thinking of Kira.

Hughes raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell you that, any more than I could tell anyone why you’re here. As I was saying, you can’t skip the introductory courses; it would look suspicious. Besides, you might discover that you don’t actually know everything.”

Stiles sighed. “I know, I just feel like I’m treading water. I need to know these things so I can help Scott.”

“Scott has a Dr. Deaton and Satomi to help him,” Hughes said.

“They’re not me.”

“No,” Hughes said. “I just meant that you shouldn’t worry about Scott; he’s in good hands. You need to concentrate on your work here.”

Hughes reminded Stiles to call him if he had any problems, and ended their meeting with, “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

On the way back to Dickson, Stiles spotted a man walking towards him with five dogs on leashes. They were the most well-behaved dogs that Stiles had ever seen and he was watching them so closely that he didn’t recognize the man walking them until they were nearly within reach.

“Derek!” Stiles said.

Derek frowned. “Yes?”

“Uh, just, hi. Dogs!” Stiles gestured. “Are they yours? Can I pet them?”

“No,” Derek said.

Stiles pulled back the hand he’d been reaching out to pet the nearest dog.

“They’re not mine,” Derek said. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything if you pet them.”

“Wow, that’s . . .” Rude, Stiles was going to say, but he was startled silent by the command in Derek’s voice when he said, “Sit.”

Five dog butts hit the ground, and Stiles’ butt nearly did the same. “Forceful,” Stiles said.

“Did you want to pet them, or not?”

“Yes,” Stiles said. He unshouldered his backpack and knelt on the ground so he could pet them all. The dogs stayed seated, but their bodies trembled and their tails swept the ground as Stiles made sure they each got some attention.

“I’ve got to get them back,” Derek said.

“Right,” Stiles said, standing slowly, his hand sliding off the nearest dog’s head. “So, you’re a . . . dog walker?”

“Among other things,” Derek said. He issued a command and the five dogs were back on their feet, walking away.

“Nice seeing you!” Stiles called after them. Derek didn’t respond, but Stiles didn’t take it personally.

Stiles returned to his dorm to get some reading done before he had to head to the dining hall for his shift. He arrived early so he could eat, and then he got a quick training course on how to use the huge dishwasher. Dirty dishes went in, and clean dishes (fucking _hot_ clean dishes) came out. Stiles now understood why this job paid more than working the serving line or bussing tables; no one in their right mind would want to do it otherwise.

Stiles took a shower when he got back to his dorm because he smelled like garbage after his shift. He considered finding Kira to see if she wanted to attend the screening of Jean Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast (1946) at Willard Straight Theatre, or something, but he was so tired he fell asleep when he laid down to ‘rest his eyes’ for just a moment. Stiles woke up in the middle of the night long enough to crawl under the covers and make sure his alarm was set.

Wednesday was the one day of the week he didn’t have a nine am class, so Stiles was able to eat breakfast and do the reading for his Anthro class. Stiles was one of the first students in the lecture hall and he took a seat in the second row near the aisle. He shook his head as Professor Hughes wrote his name on the blackboard beneath the name of the course (Care of Magical Creatures). It filled one of the writing requirements, so there were a lot of students in the class, but how some of these courses managed to stay under the radar of people who didn’t know about the existence of the supernatural, Stiles had no idea.

After Anthro Stiles had his first PE class. Since it was after eleven here in New York, Stiles figured it wasn’t too early to call his dad. They spoke as Stiles walked back across campus to Helen Newman Hall, Stiles telling his dad how his first day of classes had gone, that he and Kira were hanging out, that he’d seen Derek walking dogs.

“How is Derek?” Stiles’ dad said.

“Grumpy, as usual,” Stiles said, then filled the silence he got in response with a question about Scott, following up with, “You better still be eating right,” before having to hang up so he could get changed for PE.

After a rousing round of cardio Stiles headed back to his dorm so he could shower before meeting Kira for lunch. He got lost getting out of Helen Newman and found himself at the batting cages. Stiles hadn’t even realized that Cornell had batting cages outside of the baseball facility at Hoy Field, but he guessed that some students who weren’t on the team might want access to them, as well. From the sound of a bat hitting balls, Stiles realized that someone was using the cages now.

Stiles considered just leaving, but he was curious. He stepped closer and his breath caught when he recognized Derek swinging the bat. Stiles took a step back, knowing he shouldn’t interrupt, but he found himself mesmerized by Derek’s swing. The fact that he was wearing a pair of nylon baseball shorts that hugged his ass had nothing to do with it.

“You keep swinging at the balls low and inside,” Stiles said after watching Derek for longer than was polite.

“You’re a baseball coach now?” Derek said, swinging at another ball and hitting this one with a ‘crack’.

“The Monday morning kind,” Stiles admitted. “Also, I have eyes.”

Derek continued to swing at the balls low and inside.

Stiles shook his head. “I got lost trying to get out of this building,” he said.

Derek snorted. Stiles almost missed it in the sound of the ball being released, but he was sure that’s what he’d heard. Derek pressed a button that paused the pitching machine after he hit the ball, then turned to give Stiles directions out of Helen Newman.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, but Derek was already facing the pitching machine once more.

“You’re welcome, Stiles,” Stiles muttered as he left the batting cages. This time he did make it out of the building following Derek’s instructions. He just had time to shower before he had to leave to meet Kira for lunch. Stiles had English right after, so he stuffed the books he’d need into his backpack.

Stiles had planned to get some studying done after class since they were required to attend the performance of ‘Tapestry of Possibilities: Diversity at Cornell’ that evening, but instead Kira roped him into an impromptu game of volleyball on the sand court. Luckily Stiles did manage to go over his Latin assignment for the next morning before the performance, because afterwards they attended the Waffle Design Competition (where Stiles created a waffle sandwich with a fresh fruit and whipped cream center) followed by a screening of Billy Wilder’s ‘Some Like It Hot’ at the Willard Straight Hall and Theatre.

Stiles’ plans for setting his alarm earlier so he could get something to eat before class did not pan out. Since he had a free period after, Stiles hit the snooze button a couple of times and then had to race to get dressed, his backpack packed, and a cup of coffee in his hand before he started the trek across campus.

After Latin, Stiles read up on herbs over a breakfast burrito and side of fried potatoes. He couldn’t wait until next semester when he could get more hands on with the herbs in his Medicinal Botany and Health class. He met Kira for lunch after Botany, and then they studied together in the library for a couple of hours before she had to leave for class. Stiles walked with her, grabbing a hot mocha along the way to keep him awake, and continued studying in his room until he had to leave for work.

Stiles was bummed that he had to miss the Willard Straight Hall Scavenger Hunt because he had another shift in the dining hall, but at least he didn’t fall asleep straight after his shower this time. He and Kira went out for ice cream and studied at a table outside the Cornell Dairy Bar while they ate.

Friday morning Stiles didn’t have a break after Latin, so he forced himself to get up when his earlier alarm went off. It was easier since he got to bed earlier than he had been, and also because he knew he wouldn’t get breakfast if he didn’t. Stiles had Latin and Anthro back-to-back, then a block of study time before he met Kira for lunch. They’d been meeting at different halls and today was Stiles’ turn to pick; he chose Franny’s because he was in the mood for a noodle bowl.

Stiles got some study time in after English before he and Kira went to The Cornell Store New Student Open House for some free food from Café Jennie and prizes. They went from there to the ‘Thank Goodness It’s Friday!’ celebration where they tie-died t-shirts, got henna tattoos, played laser tag, and watched the screening of ‘The Wolverine’. When Stiles finally fell into bed that night he was very glad that the next day was Saturday.

Stiles did sleep in late the next morning, but he still got up earlier than he wanted to because he’d promised to go on a run with Kira. They took showers after, went to the dining hall for brunch, and then Kira took Stiles with her to the ‘Asian and Asian American Welcome Reception’.

They attended the ‘New Student Field Day’ where Stiles admitted to Kira that he’d been on the lacrosse team, but hadn’t been very good. Kira had played field hockey and softball in high school, but she convinced Stiles to attempt soccer, which neither one of them had played before. After half an hour of near constant running around, and a bruised shin, Stiles was man enough to admit that he’d had enough. He grabbed a cold drink and sat on the grass to watch Kira play.

Stiles’ phone rang and he fumbled it when he saw Scott’s name on the screen. This was the first time they’d spoken since Stiles left Beacon Hills; the only other time they’d gone so long was when Scott had spent a couple of court-mandated months with his dad one summer. Stiles told Scott about Kira and Derek and Professor Hughes and seeing the movie that was George Lucas’ inspiration for ‘Star Wars’, which Scott _still_ hadn’t seen, and in return Scott filled Stiles in on Allison, his work with Deaton (both in the animal clinic and outside it), and how Satomi’s pack was doing.

Kira took a break and sat with Stiles, stealing sips of his warming Gatorade and then grimacing. “Why do you keep drinking it if you don’t like it?”

“Because it’s the only thing here.” Kira gave Stiles a very effective puppy dog eyes.

Stiles took the hint and went to get Kira a cold drink that was not Gatorade. Or soda because she was apparently a nut. Who didn’t like soda?

They returned to Dickson early for ‘Welcome to McLLU!’. Stiles tried to determine which of the people in attendance were of the supernatural variety, but aside from the tingle he’d gotten when he’d shaken Kira’s hand the day they met, Stiles had nothing. They checked out the Hip-Hop Open Mic, then got a late supper.

Even though Kira was taking Cardio Kickboxing (because of course she was) which met on Sunday afternoons, she still woke Stiles up for a run that morning. Stiles reminded himself that he’d wanted to get in better shape and dragged himself out of bed. On the plus side, they got to run the trails on the campus which were pretty amazing even if Kira wouldn’t let Stiles stop to take pictures.

On their way back to Dickson to shower Stiles saw Derek walking across the campus. To his surprise Kira called out Derek’s name. Derek raised his head, his grumpy expression dissolving and reforming itself into a smile when he saw who had called out to him, and waved. Stiles, who was staring at Derek rather than watching where he was going (because Derek’s face fucking _transformed_ when he smiled) walked into a bench.

“Ow, fuck,” Stiles said, doubling over and rubbing his thigh. He hoped that Derek hadn’t seen that, though given the way his luck ran Derek probably had.

“Stiles!” Kira said worriedly. “Are you alright?”

Stiles groaned. “Yeah, fine. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He blushed when he thought of why that was. He started hobbling away from the scene of the crime and Kira followed him.

“So,” Stiles said, aiming for casual, “you know Derek?”

“Yes,” Kira said. “You remember him from the day we moved in, right? He was volunteering.”

“No, yeah, I saw him there, it’s just . . .” He never looks that happy to see me. “I’ve never seen him actually smile.”

“Derek smiles all the time,” Kira said, sounding confused. “Maybe it’s just because he doesn’t know you.”

“And he knows you?” Stiles said.

“Yeah,” Kira said, ignoring Stiles’ sarcasm or not noticing it. “He’s kind of like my mentor.” She rolled her eyes. “My parents asked him to keep an eye on me.”

Stiles choked. “Your parents know Derek?”

Kira nodded. “From when they lived in New York.”

“New York City,” Stiles clarified.

That gave Stiles something to think on. He shook his head. “Maybe it’s just me he doesn’t like. No, it happens, and I get it,” Stiles said when it looked like Kira might defend him (or, god forbid, Derek), “I’m an acquired taste. It’s just a good thing you’ve got a taste for the Stiles.”

Kira gave Stiles a long look, and then they both laughed.

They grabbed something to eat on the way back to their dorm (Kira gave Stiles’ breakfast burrito a side-eye but stole some of his fried potatoes), then went their separate ways to shower. They met up in Stiles’ room to study – Stiles sprawled in the hot pink beanbag chair he’d acquired, his feet up on the bed, and Kira sitting at his desk – until Kira had to leave for kickboxing. Stiles had good intentions to continue studying, but he fell asleep right where he was sitting. He jolted awake, neck sore and drool in the corner of his lips, when Kira knocked on his door to pick him up for the ‘Ujamaa Residential College BBQ’.

After the bar-b-que, Stiles and Kira each went to their own room so they could call their parents. There wasn’t much going on in Beacon Hills, which is what Stiles liked to hear, especially with him all the way across the country and unable to do anything about it. Kira knocked on Stiles’ door after her phone call and didn’t even try to hide the red eyes that meant she’d been crying. Stiles shoved over and they both managed to squish onto his bed to watch ‘Orphan Black’ on Netflix.

The second week was much like the first, with the exception that there were no more orientation events to attend. Stiles went to class, worked in the dining hall, studied, hung out with Kira, and tried to remember to call his dad every other day. Kira and Stiles did laundry together and Kira quizzed Stiles on Latin using the flash cards he’d made up. There was a floor pizza party where Stiles met the other people who lived on his floor (seeing them in passing as one or the other of them was rushing back to their room with a towel around their waist or to class didn’t count), and he joined Kira in another volleyball game where he met more people.

One guy, Samuel O’Riley, reminded Stiles of Jackson at first glance, but once Stiles had a chance to speak to him it turned out he was merely shy, and much more like Scott. Samuel was cute – mahogany hair, green eyes, and pale skin with freckles that rivaled Stiles’ own – and Stiles was 99.99% sure he was a supernatural creature. Stiles still hadn’t worked out how to broach the topic with Kira, he certainly didn’t know how to ask a total stranger.

“Just ask him,” Kira said when she saw Stiles staring at Samuel.

“What?” Stiles squeaked.

“Ask him out,” Kira said.

Stiles sputtered. “I don’t . . . that’s not . . .”

“You keep staring at him,” Kira said, glancing back out at the game taking place on the sand. “And he’s cute.”

“I was wondering if he was a Selkie,” Stiles said facetiously, “though my luck he’d turn out to be a Kelpie.”

“You’re close with the water theme,” Kira said. “That’s one of the reasons Cornell was built near a lake in the middle of nowhere. He’s a Capricornus.”

“Capricorn is a Zodiac sign,” Stiles said as he took in Kira’s comment about the reason the university was built near a lake, something he already knew from Satomi.

“A Capricornus is a sea-goat; a creature that’s half-goat, half-fish,” Kira said, adding, “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

For a moment they both stared at each other, then Kira squealed and punched Stiles in the arm.

“Ow.”

“I knew it!” Kira said as she got up onto her knees and leaned in closer to Stiles. “Is that why you’re here?”

Stiles swallowed hard. The moment he’d been trying to engineer was upon him. “Um, maybe?”

Kira knocked her shoulder into Stiles’ as she flopped back down, partly on the grass and partly on Stiles. “What are you?”

“I’m . . . nothing special,” Stiles said. “I’m just here to learn about . . . stuff.” He glanced around, then bent his head towards Kira. “My best friend was bitten by a werewolf.”

“Scott?”

“Yes.”

“So you can advise him? Sort of like an emissary.”

“I don’t think . . . Scott has Deaton and Satomi for that. I picture myself more as research guy.” Stiles groaned when Kira didn’t recognize the reference. “First Scott doesn’t watch ‘Star Wars’, and now you don’t know Buffy.”

“What’s Buffy?” Kira said.

Stiles’ eyes went round with outrage until he saw that Kira was pulling his leg. “That’s not funny. Anyway, why are you here?”

Kira made a strangled sound of excitement. “I’m a fox!”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I think it’s more effective when someone else calls you a fox.”

Kira laughed, giddy. “No, I’m a Kitsune.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. He’d only read enough about Kitsune to know there was more than one type. “What kind?”

“Thunder,” Kira said.

“I felt a tingle the first time we shook hands,” Stiles said.

“You sensed it!”

That night Stiles asked Lydia to send him everything the Bestiary had on Kitsune. Instead of sending the translation, Lydia sent it in the original Latin.

Stiles had a paper due the following week in Anthro. He knew his own shortcomings when it came to going off on tangents, and this was one class he couldn’t afford to screw up, not when he needed it to get to the more advanced Mythology & Folklore courses. He bit the bullet and went to the Robert Purcell Community Center for one of their TA’s sessions. The line to see her was longer than Stiles would’ve expected, but he realized why when he got closer and saw the TA.

“You don’t look like Tara Miller,” Stiles said when it was his turn.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m not Tara Miller.”

“The syllabus says . . . Oh, god, did I just wait in the wrong line?” Stiles had recognized some of the students, but that didn’t mean they’d been here for the same class.

“You’re in the right place,” Derek said. “Tara couldn’t make it; she asked me to fill in for her since I TA’d the course last year.”

That was the most Stiles had ever heard Derek say and for a moment _he_ was speechless.

Derek looked both amused and annoyed. “What do you need?”

Stiles jerked back to the present. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me, Stiles. This is what I’m here for.”

“Yeah, but . . . I know you don’t like me, which is fine,” Stiles hurriedly added. “Not everybody has to like me . . .”

“I don’t . . . _dis_ like you,” Derek said, looking as if he’d just bitten into a lemon.

“Wow,” Stiles said. “Damned with faint praise.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You remind me of home,” he said, sounding as if the words had been dragged out of him.

Stiles fell silent for a moment because that was a strange thing to say. “Okay, that’s weird, but most people would like being reminded of home.”

“Not me,” Derek said. “Now, what do you need?”

“Oh,” Stiles said, dropping his eyes to the papers he’d crumpled in his hand. “I wanted someone to look over my paper. I have a tendency to ramble and lose focus. I once wrote an essay on the history of the male circumcision for an Econ exam.”

Derek looked like he found that amusing but really didn’t want to. “Did you pass?”

“Of course. And I got extra credit for the essay, but Coach actually took off points for grammar.”

Derek reached for the papers, but Stiles pulled them back. “This isn’t your . . . I should probably give it to Tara.”

“Give me your paper, Stiles,” Derek said, and Stiles meekly handed over the paper.

Derek glanced down at the top sheet which had Stiles’ name and e-mail address in the right hand corner. “I’ll look it over and get back to you this evening,” he said.

“Okay,” Stiles said, still kind of stunned that he’d had an actual conversation with Derek.

“Was there anything else?”

Derek still looked grumpy, but he sounded amused. It was confusing.

“No. Thank you.”

Stiles fled and tried to forget about Derek and his hot everything, but Stiles’ stupid heart leapt when he got the promised e-mail from Derek that evening. He carefully saved Derek’s e-mail address to his contacts and tried not to think about why he was doing so.

The following Monday was Labor Day and there were no classes. Kira got Stiles up early for their morning run (weekend runs apparently got extended to holidays) because the dining halls were closed and there was only a small window of opportunity for breakfast if they wanted to get it on-campus. Stiles didn’t complain because he’d already noticed that he could make the half hour hike across campus much more easily than he had when he first arrived just two weeks ago.

They grabbed breakfast from Bear Necessities on their way back to their dorm. People were already gathering out on the lawn because the day was turning out to be warm (the high temperature was in the 80s and Stiles could almost believe he was still in California rather than New York) so Kira and Stiles joined them for a couple games of volleyball. Stiles might be gaining more stamina, but he was not any more coordinated.

They had lunch at the Dairy Bar, getting a soft-serve ice-cream cone to eat while walking back to Dickson. They took their books outside and pretended to study while sitting on the grass, soaking up the sun. Kira smartly wore a wide-brimmed hat that protected her face and made her look posh, while the tip of Stiles’ nose got burnt.

They showered and headed over to Greek Row with Samuel and a few other people they’d gotten to know at the volleyball games, where the Cornell fraternities and sororities were putting on a Brook’s chicken and ribs bar-b-que. After dinner Stiles did some actual studying and called home to see if the holiday had brought out the crazies and make sure his dad had managed to stay safe.

On Wednesday Professor Hughes informed them that Tara had needed to withdraw and introduced their new TA. “I know that some of you have already met him,” Hughes said knowingly, “but for those who haven’t, please meet Derek Hale, your new TA for Care of Magical Creatures.”

Stiles had been smirking at Derek during the introduction because he’d looked so uncomfortable being the center of attention, but the moment Hughes said ‘Hale’ the blood rushed in Stiles’ ears and he didn’t hear anything else. He felt the blood rush from his face, he went hot and then cold. No wonder Derek had said that Stiles reminded him of home; Derek was Derek Hale, and he was originally from Beacon Hills.

Stiles’ first thought was, you grew into your ears, and immediately on the tail of that one, I killed your uncle. Fuck. Fuck! He was so fucked.

Derek nodded at the class, spoke a few words about office hours and how to contact him, offered up what was probably supposed to be a smile, and then escaped. Stiles was lucky if he heard every third word of the lecture that followed. His hand shook as he tried to take notes and his heart pounded so hard he was sure that everyone in the class could hear it.

The moment they were released, Stiles had his cell phone in his hand and was dialing Scott. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Stiles muttered as he shoved his book into his backpack with one hand. Scott did not pick up, so Stiles left a message as he departed the lecture hall and headed for the exit.

“Scott, you need to call me back as soon as you get this message. Derek is Derek _Hale_. Scott, what am I going to tell him about Peter?” Stiles glanced up at the sun as he stepped out of the building. Derek Hale was standing on the steps, leaning against the railing, looking right at Stiles with a frown on his face. “Shit,” Stiles said. “Call me back. If I don’t answer, I might be dead.” Derek’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Very, very dead,” Stiles added before disconnecting the call.

“He-e-ey, Derek,” Stiles said as he managed to slip the phone into his pocket on the second try. My hand’s not shaking, yours is, Stiles thought, but he knew that Tumblr-speak was not going to help him out of this mess. “How’s it going?”

“You tell me,” Derek said with a growl. “Your heart started going crazy in there.”

“That’s because I just found out that you’re Derek Hale,” Stiles said.

“Satomi gave you a reference.”

“Yes?”

“She didn’t tell you I’d be here?”

“No?”

Derek managed to look antagonistic and uncomfortable at the same time. “I though you recognized me.”

“It’s been, like, ten years, how was I supposed to recognize you?”

“Eight,” Derek said.

“Pedantic much?” Stiles said. He groaned when Derek didn’t seem to get the reference. “Does no one watch Buffy?”

Derek studied Stiles, as if looking for the lie in his words. Stiles forced himself to not sigh in relief when it appeared he didn’t find one.

“Tell me about Peter,” Derek said.

“Peter?”

Derek’s scowl turned to a glare.

“Oh, Peter. He’s just a, uh, friend of ours.”

“My uncle’s name is Peter,” Derek said. It might’ve sounded casual to the uninterested observer, but Stiles heard the deeper meaning.

“Heh, what a coincidence.”

“He’s been missing for a couple of years.”

“Wow, that’s . . . Alright, fine!” Stiles could lie like a champ, but for some reason he was having trouble lying to Derek. He chalked it up to the fact that Derek deserved to know what had happened to his uncle. Stiles glanced around them. “I have PE in a few minutes. Can we talk after?”

Derek hesitated. “Fine. Meet me in the batting cages after your class. Nobody uses them much this time of year.”

Derek turned and jogged away, leaving Stiles standing there alone. “Rude.”

All through Cardio Stiles wondered how he was going to tell Derek about Peter, and he was still thinking about it when, unable to recreate the path he’d followed when he’d gotten lost, he followed the actual signs to the batting cages. Stiles stood there for a few moments, just watching Derek’s swing. He was still swinging at (and missing) the balls low and inside. Stiles frowned, but before he could think on it any further, Derek turned off the pitching machine and stepped out of the cage.

“Tell me about Peter.”

“Hi to you, too,” Stiles said. “Are you a werewolf?” Deaton, Satomi, Argent, they’d all said that the Hales were werewolves, but even though Peter had bitten Scott, Stiles was still having a difficult time imagining cute little Derek Hale as a werewolf.

“Tell me about Peter,” Derek repeated with a growl. “Or I’ll rip your throat out. With my teeth.”

Stiles’ reaction to that was probably not what Derek had intended. He had to swallow hard before he could speak. “That’s yes to werewolf, then?”

Derek sighed, his shoulders slumping as if all the air had been let out of him. “Stiles, please, just tell me what happened to Peter.”

“I killed him,” Stiles blurted.

Derek looked shocked, and then uncertain. “You killed Peter?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Stiles said, his emotions doing a one-eighty at the insulting suggestion that he didn’t have it in him to kill Peter. He totally had it in him.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

Stiles spoke quickly. “Peter bit my best friend Scott, and then he killed a lot of people that he tried to get Scott to help him kill, so we had to kill him before he killed anyone else, including us.”

Stiles was surprised that Derek seemed to have no problem following that. He said, “Peter was in a long-term care facility, in a coma.”

“Apparently he got better,” Stiles said.

“Peter wasn’t an Alpha.”

“Tell that to Scott.”

Just then Stiles’ phone rang. He drew it out of his pocket and looked at the screen; it was Scott. “Oh, sure, _now_ he calls me back.” Stiles thumbed the screen. “Hey, Scottie, I’m still alive, thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said. “There was a puppy emergency. Eight puppy emergencies.”

“Puppies?” Stiles said.

“Eight of them,” Scott said smugly. His voice changed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Derek’s with me right now.” The ‘he can hear everything you say’ went unspoken.

“Did you . . . tell him?”

“Broad strokes,” Stiles said.

“How’d he take it?”

“Better than I expected. But that could change.”

“Call me tonight,” Scott said. “Tell me how it went.”

Stiles said a silent prayer to Scott. “Will do. Pet the puppies for me.” Stiles ended the call and studied Derek. “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t?” Derek said. “You killed my uncle.”

“Because he went crazy, and he would’ve killed us,” Stiles said. He spread his arms. “Do I seriously look like someone who enjoys killing people?”

“I don’t know, Stiles, do I?”

“Um, yes? Like, all the time?” Stiles said.

Derek’s nostrils flared and he looked like he wanted to punch something. Stiles hoped it would be the wall.

“Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but killing Peter . . . it was our last resort.”

Derek looked lost. He nodded. “I want to know everything.”

“Yes,” Stiles said, “of course, yes, do you, now?”

“Do you have class?”

“No, I have some time before my next class. I need to shower though, and text Kira to let her know I can’t make it to lunch.”

Derek led the way out of Newman Hall. Stiles followed him as he texted Kira. “You’re still not laying off the balls low and inside,” Stiles said absently as his gaze moved between Derek’s back and the screen of his phone.

Derek didn’t respond.

“Wait,” Stiles said. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“It would looks suspicious if I could hit everything,” Derek said shortly.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “You actually cultivated a weakness so people wouldn’t find out you’re a werewolf!”

“You think that’s stupid?”

“No, I think that’s really smart!”

Derek shrugged as if he didn’t care what Stiles thought, but Stiles saw the blush crawling up the back of his neck.

“How do you know where to go?” Stiles said when Derek turned left out of Helen Newman Hall, and then took a right onto a footpath that was a shortcut to Dickson.

“I was volunteering at your dorm when you arrived,” Derek said, as if Stiles was the idiot for forgetting.

“Yeah, I’m just, surprised you remembered, is all.”

“Your arrival made an impression,” Derek said dryly.

“Yeah, a bad one.”

“That’s not completely true,” Derek said.

“And once again, damned with faint praise.”

When they reached Dickson, Stiles said, “Are you, uh, coming up?”

“I’ll wait for you in the lounge,” Derek said.

“Yeah, okay.”

Stiles hurried away before Derek could see how the thought of Derek filling the tiny space of his dorm room affected him. Stiles rushed through a shower and quickly packed his backpack for his afternoon class. When Stiles got back down to the lounge, Derek was sitting very still, as if his attention was fully focused on whatever talk show was on the television. Stiles knew it wasn’t, but he paused before interrupting Derek anyway. Derek turned his head and looked at Stiles, and for the first time Stiles realized what this conversation was costing Derek.

“Hey, um, you ready to go?”

Derek didn’t reply, but he stood and followed Stiles outside.

“We can do this another time,” Stiles said.

Derek shook his head. “No.”

“Do you mind if I get something to eat?”

Derek grunted, so Stiles took it as a no. He headed for Louie’s Lunch so they could sit outside where there would be less chance that anyone was paying them any attention. Stiles ordered a roast beef sandwich with a side of fries and a soda and they found an empty picnic table that offered them some privacy.

Stiles told Derek everything that had happened from the night they went out to look for a dead body to the night they, he, killed Peter. Every one had been involved with throwing the Molotov cocktails, but Stiles had struck the final blow when Peter lay there, burnt and helpless. Stiles’ stomach churned and he pushed away the fries he’d covered in ketchup because right now it reminded him too much of the blood that had flown from Peter’s throat when Stiles severed his carotid.

“Derek?” Stiles said when he finished and Derek remained silent.

“I wonder, if I was there, if I could’ve done something, changed things.”

“No,” Stiles said, “I don’t think so.” He remembered the misshapen form Peter’s wolf had taken. “I think he woke up wrong. I don’t think there was anything you could’ve done to save him.”

“I still don’t understand how he became an Alpha,” Derek said.

“We were never able to identify the body of the woman,” Stiles said. “Satomi thinks she might’ve been an Alpha that Peter lured to Beacon Hills.”

Stiles took a bite of the sandwich, but it was like swallowing saw dust. He finished the soda and piled up the trash. “My dad recognized you,” Stiles finally said, the image of his dad and Derek locked in a serious discussion filling his head.

“Yes.”

“How come you didn’t, I don’t know, talk to me?”

“I was trying to keep a low profile,” Derek said.

“Yeah, but . . .”

“And I didn’t know who you were, aside from Deputy Stilinksi’s son.”

“He’s the Sheriff now.”

“So I heard,” Derek said wryly.

“You could’ve trusted me,” Stiles said. “You had to know I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t because of . . .” He made a gesture that was supposed to mean ‘all this supernatural shit’.

Derek raised his eyebrow, then turned his face away. “The last person I trusted burnt my house down and killed most of my family.”

Stiles stomach felt like hot lead sat in it. “What?”

Derek shook his head and stood. “You should get to class.”

Stiles checked the time. He’d make it in time if he ran. “Derek . . .”

“Let it go, Stiles.”

“Wow, you really don’t know me at all.”

Derek’s expression was a mixture of aggravation and grief. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

When they met up before dinner, Stiles said to Kira, “Why didn’t you tell me that Derek’s last name was ‘Hale’?”

Kira shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered. Does it?”

“You cannot tell anyone that I told you this,” Stiles said. “Especially Derek.”

Kira cried when Stiles she heard about the fire that killed most of Derek’s family and Stiles was sorry he’d told her. “That’s horrible!”

“Yeah,” Stiles said.

That night, instead of doing homework, Stiles used his dad’s password to get into the Beacon County Sheriff Department’s database and read every report he could get his hands on regarding the Hale fire from eight years ago, and then all the reports on the deaths they were pretty sure Peter had been responsible for: two known arsonists, a chemistry teacher, an insurance adjuster, and Kate Argent.

Stiles’ blood ran cold. He saved the reports to a thumb drive and exited the system. Stiles called Scott that night like he’d said he would. He told Scott what he suspected and made Scott promise not to tell Chris Argent where Derek was.


	2. Chapter 2

The next three weeks were more of the same, with two exceptions. The first was that whenever Derek saw Stiles he didn’t pretend he hadn’t. He didn’t smile the same way he did when he saw Kira, but at least he no longer acted like Stiles was something smelly he’d just stepped in. The other was that Stiles was spending some of his study time looking more closely into the Hale fire.

Kira had been talking about the Apple Harvest Festival the entire week, so Stiles was not surprised when, Friday at lunch she pulled out a printout of the activities taking place during the festival as well as a map of the Commons. Stiles didn’t mind going with her to check it out, and he really didn’t mind when they got close enough for the scent of baked good to reach his nostrils. Everywhere Stiles turned there was something to see, something to do, something to eat . . . There were games, rides, live performances, craft vendors, and so, so much food.

Stiles offered to win Kira a stuffed animal, but she gave him a look and won a stuffed penguin for him, instead. They drank cider and ate hot apple cider donuts while watching a juggler and then a children’s magician. Kira stopped at a booth to speak with the woman manning it. Stiles caught the words ‘Top Dog’ before he was distracted by the baby goats at the Laughing Goat Fiber Farm booth.

Kira looked pleased with herself after she left the woman with a hug, but she wouldn’t tell Stiles why. At six pm, when the festival closed, Kira snuck them into a 21 and over comedy show.

Stiles was hyped on sugar when they returned to Dickson, so he decided to do laundry. Since most people were out partying on Friday night, the laundry room should be empty. He did some reading for Anthro and scribbled down some ideas for the next paper they had to write while his clothes washed and dried. It was midnight before he got to bed after folding his clothes and putting them away.

Stiles dragged himself out of bed the next morning for his run with Kira. The days were still warm enough, but the mornings were pretty chilly, so he added an extra layer. They got breakfast and showered and pretended to study for a couple of hours during which Kira was bouncing like Stiles when he hadn’t taken his Adderall.

Finally Stiles slammed his book closed and said, “Fine, we can go now.”

Kira didn’t even pretend that she wasn’t excited about the festival. She grabbed up her own books and told Stiles she’d meet him at the front door in ten minutes as she ran out of his room. Stiles wore a long-sleeved plaid shirt over his t-shirt, but he tied a light sweatshirt around his waist just in case. He made sure he had his wallet and keys, and then stopped in the bathroom on the way to meeting Kira.

Today there was live music, and Stiles heard it even before he caught a waft of baked apple something that drew him in. Lunch was apple crisp with soft-serve ice cream that Kira didn’t even bat an eyelash at. Stiles shrugged – at least he was eating fruit – and silently swore to never tell his dad. They rode on the Ferris Wheel and had a great view of downtown Ithaca when they reached the top.

Stiles craned his head to take in all the sights as they wandered down to DeWitt Park to visit the First Peoples’ Festival. They watched women preparing corn, saw a live dance performance, and got their faces painted (even though it was supposed to be for children). Stiles found some items he thought would make great Christmas gifts: a pair of moccasin slippers for his dad and a necklace for Lydia.

Kira dragged Stiles back to the Commons and he was so distracted by the smells and sounds and sights that it wasn’t until he saw the baby goats that he realized where Kira was leading them. Kira greeted the same dark-haired woman she’d spoken to the day before, but all Stiles could see was Derek. Derek and a puppy, to be exact.

“Wha–what’s he doing?” Stiles said, his voice cracking.

“A training demonstration,” the woman said.

Stiles tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He automatically took the business card the woman handed him and glanced down at it: Top Dog Animal Training and Rescue. Beneath the name of the business were the names of the owners: Laura and Derek Hale. Stiles felt like he was going to choke.

“You alright?” Kira said.

Stiles nodded and took his eyes off the card long enough for his gaze to find Derek again.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” the woman, Laura Hale, Stiles saw the resemblance now, said.

“The puppy?” Stiles said.

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, watching Derek be completely absorbed by his work with the puppy, “adorable.”

When Derek was done demonstrating their training method, he led the puppy behind the booth. Stiles followed him and realized that there was a fenced area that held several animals, all rescues according to the sign. An area with kittens was divided from dogs, rabbits, and even an alpaca. When Derek put the puppy back into its pen, the other dogs leapt on him excitedly. Instead of pushing them away, or growling at them, Derek singled out each one and gave it a pet and some soft words that Stiles couldn’t hear. Unexpected tears prickled at the back of Stiles’ eyes, and he quickly blinked them away when Derek glanced over at him.

“I didn’t know you ran an animal training and rescue . . . thing,” Stiles said, waving the card Laura had given him. “That’s awesome! Is that how you got into the dog-walking business?”

For some unknown reason, Derek blushed.

“Something like that,” came a voice from behind Stiles, making him jump.

Derek glared at Laura, and she laughed, but she didn’t elaborate, which Stiles found frustrating. Instead she turned to Stiles and gave him a long look.

“You must be Stiles,” she said. The corners of her lips twitched. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And you must be Laura,” Stiles said. “I’ve heard nothing about you.” He glared at Derek.

Stiles spent the rest of the afternoon petting kittens, letting the puppy jump on him, and pulling apart hay to put in the alpaca’s feed bin. He didn’t even pretend that they weren’t going to go back the next day, though he did tell Kira that he needed to look for presents for Scott and Allison. Kira kindly didn’t mention that he could’ve done so that afternoon if he’d been able to pull himself away from the Hale booth.

On Sunday Stiles did not spend the entire day watching Derek interact with cute, fluffy animals, if only because Stiles couldn’t breathe when he saw Derek being so adorable. He had a feeling that Derek’s scowls and growls were going to be a lot less effective after this weekend. Stiles made Kira ride the Ferris Wheel again, they stopped by the Bernie Milton Pavilion to watch one of the live bands, and Stiles did manage to find gifts for Scott and Allison: matching knit hats with ear flaps and a pompom on top that Scott would think was adorable and Allison would wear because Scott thought it was adorable. Stiles even bought one for himself, though in a different style.

They brought cider and donuts back to the Hale booth that Laura insisted on reimbursing them for because they were students. Kira argued that she could afford it, and Stiles stayed out of it.

“What’s going on?” Derek said over Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles froze, but managed to explain the situation to Derek.

“Wonder who’s gonna win,” Derek said.

“You don’t think Laura’s going to win?” Stiles said, turning to look at Derek in surprise.

“Laura knows how to pick her battles,” Derek said, and when Stiles turned back the two women were hugging. Kira looked smug, but Laura winked at Derek, so Stiles didn’t think she was upset about losing this particular argument.

~*~

The question of Derek’s dog-walking job worked at Stiles until the day he happened to be heading the same way Derek was walking and saw him returning the dogs to their owners, all of whom were female and at least twenty years older than Derek.

“Were they flirting with you?” Stiles said.

Derek didn’t look surprised by his sudden appearance, but in lieu of an answer he glared at Stiles.

“They were, like, twenty years older than you!”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Derek said.

“What?” Stiles said. “What does that mean?” Stiles looked back at the women leading the dogs away, and then ran to catch up with Derek. “Are you telling me that some of them are younger than that?” He studied Derek’s face. “Older? Oh my god,” Stiles breathed. “Were some of them supernatural?”

Derek smirked.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Derek turned off the path and Stiles sighed. Now he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it. Which Derek full well knew.

~*~

Two weekends after the Apple Harvest Festival was Fall Break. Mid-terms fell the week prior to that, so Stiles and Kira were each busy with their own study groups. Stiles felt pretty confident in his Anthro class, but he still attended the review session Derek held in Purcell. Derek was pretty knowledgeable about the material, and he was confident when he was talking about the things that were going to be on the exam. He seemed to withdraw a little into himself with each flirtatious comment from the girls (and some of the boys), so when Derek happened to glance in Stiles’ direction, Stiles rolled his eyes at him.

Derek narrowed his eyes and his grumpiness seemed to overcome any sense of discomfort he felt at the blatant flirting. After the session Stiles waited to speak with Derek. A lot of the students had the same idea, so it was a long wait. Stiles texted Kira while he waited. When Stiles finally made it to the head of the line Derek gave him a guarded look.

“What?” Stiles said.

“What do you want, Stiles?”

“Maybe I have a question about the material.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest and stared Stiles down.

“If they knew what a sourwolf you were all the time they wouldn’t flirt with you,” Stiles said.

Derek scowled.

“See, like that!” Stiles clapped Derek on the shoulder and jerked his hand back before Derek could bite it. “Chin up, big guy.”

~*~

Stiles couldn’t afford to fly home for the four days of Fall Break, and there wasn’t enough time to drive, so he’d planned to remain on campus. The dining halls would be closed, but the dorms remained open for students who couldn’t make the trip home. He figured he’d get a lot of studying done, maybe Skype Scott and play video games. 

Stiles was lost for words when Kira invited him to go home with her, but he managed a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘I couldn’t impose’. Kira assured him that it wouldn’t be an imposition, and Stiles was stuck between agreeing and telling Kira that her mother scared him. He stammered out the truth, and Kira laughed.

“She scares a lot of people,” Kira said, and it was a done deal that Stiles would be going home with her.

Kira’s dad was a teacher, and so her mom was alone when she picked them up after Kira’s last class.

“Stiles,” Noshiko Yukimura said when Stiles followed Kira out of Dickson with a duffel bag in his hand and his backpack over his shoulder. “It’s so lovely that you’ll be joining Kira this weekend. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Stiles swallowed hard and wondered if he could back out, but Kira took his duffel and put it in the trunk with her own overnight bag. Kira opened the back passenger door for Stiles, and then got into the front passenger seat next to her mother. Stiles climbed in and was just glad that he’d told Scott where he was going to be for the weekend.

Stiles closed his eyes and listened to the soft sound of Kira talking to her mother, and eventually fell asleep during the four hour drive from Ithaca to New York City. He woke up when they were going over a bridge, and he sat up, looking around in awe. Everything was bigger, and louder, and brighter.

Aside from Noshiko asking Stiles a lot of questions about his ‘spark’, the weekend was pretty much the same as if he’d gone home; they did homework, and played video games, and ordered take-out. The only difference was the sight-seeing; Kira took Stiles out each day to show him something grand. Her parents tagged along even though they’d probably seen these sights a million times, and they looked happy just to be spending time with Kira. It made Stiles miss his dad, so when they got home Sunday afternoon he disappeared into the guest room and called home.

Kira’s dad took Tuesday off so he could ride with them on the return trip to Ithaca. Her parents took them out to lunch after they dropped off their bags at the dorm. They each gave Kira a long hug before they left. Noshiko had gotten more ‘human’ to Stiles as the weekend progressed, but watching her teary goodbye made Stiles realize that no matter what she was (a 900 year old Kitsune, Stiles still got goosebumps thinking about it), she was still a mother who loved her daughter.

~*~

The temperatures had been surprisingly warm for New York in the early days of October, but they fell in the second half of the month. Stiles was glad he’d brought a bunch of sweatshirts with him, and that he’d bought himself a hat with matching mittens at the Apple Harvest Festival. He didn’t usually need them by the afternoon, but in the morning, when he could see his breath in the cold air, he was happy he had them.

Stiles read ahead as much as he could in his classes because two weeks after Fall Break was   
First-Year Family Weekend. Stiles’ dad couldn’t afford the time away from work, or the airfare, but when Stiles had mentioned that to Lydia she’d told him that she wanted to come for a visit and check out the campus. Stiles told Lydia that she didn’t have to, but he didn’t argue against it that vehemently.

Lydia had a morning seminar she couldn’t miss on Friday, so she packed her car before class and left immediately after. Since it was a five and a half hour drive from Cambridge, MA to Ithaca, they planned on her arriving just before dinner. Stiles went outside to watch for her car when Lydia texted him that she’d arrived at the campus. A few minutes later she pulled up and Stiles tackle-hugged her the moment she stepped out of the car. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Lydia, missed _home_ , until he saw her.

The high was only in the mid-40s (and was supposed to be the same for the entire weekend), so Stiles was wearing his hat when he greeted Lydia. She flicked the pompom when Stiles released her enough that she could raise her arm, and said, “Nice hat.”

Stiles pulled on an earflap, as if Lydia’s flick had knocked the hat askew. “I bought one for Scott and Allison,” he told her.

“I’m sure they’ll love it,” Lydia said without the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Stiles had already checked-in for Lydia and picked up her badge and schedule of events, so he showed her where she could park the car, then helped her carry her bags up to his room. Stiles had offered to get her a room at The Statler, but Lydia had said that would defeat the purpose of her coming to visit him, and so he’d rented an air mattress instead and made sure his bed had clean sheets for her.

They sat on Stiles’ bed to chat, talking about school, classes and professors and papers. Lydia said, “I love university, but sometimes I really miss home, miss you guys.”

“Me too,” Stiles said. They hugged, and ended up lying on the bed, arms still around each other as they continued to talk.

“Come in!” Stiles called when there was a knock on his door. He’d left it cracked, so Kira pushed it open and peeked inside.

“Hi! Is this a bad time?” Kira said when she saw how they were laying.

“No,” Stiles said. “Come on in and join us.”

Kira raised an eyebrow, but stepped into the room. “I’ll sit at your desk.”

“Party pooper,” Stiles said, and then he introduced Kira to Lydia (the love of my life).

“Nice to meet you,” Kira said, reaching over Stiles to shake Lydia’s hand.

With permission, Stiles had already told Lydia that Kira was a fox, and told Kira that Lydia was a banshee, and so they talked a little bit about the supernatural community at Cornell. Stiles still didn’t know which students in Dickson were supernatural. “We should have a special handshake,” he complained.

“Right,” Lydia said, “because no one would ever figure that out.”

The dining halls were having special dinners in honor of Family Weekend, and so they ate on campus in deference to the time Lydia had already spent on the road. It was already dark when they left the dining hall, but the campus was well-lit and so Stiles was able to point out the various buildings and their purpose as they meandered across campus back to Dickson.

Lydia had nixed the option of watching the men’s hockey team play a division rival since they had ‘enough violence in their lives, she didn’t need manufactured violence, thank you very much,’ and so they were going to attend the Willard Straight Theater’s screening of ‘Now You See Me’. They dropped Kira at Dickson to await her parent’s arrival and continued on to the theater. Lydia reached out and took Stiles’ hand as they walked. Stiles remembered a time when he would’ve been over the moon if Lydia had wanted to hold his hand, now he just squeezed her hand and was glad that they’d become such good friends, even if they’d been brought together by their introduction to the supernatural in Beacon Hills.

Stiles and Kira skipped their usual Saturday morning run in favor of meeting up with her parents for breakfast. Stiles introduced them to Lydia. He couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing when Noshiko said, “I haven’t met a banshee in a very long time.”

Since Kira’s parents were attending Family Weekend, she was dragged off after breakfast to attend some of the sessions the university was offering, such as ‘Getting a Head Start: Opportunities for Internships’ and ‘Studying Smarter, Not Harder’. Stiles grinned as he waved Kira on her way, and burst out laughing when she gave him the finger behind her parents’ backs.

Stiles and Lydia went on a guided tour of the campus at Lydia’s insistence, and then he showed her some of the walking paths. Most of the colorful leaves had fallen off the trees already, but the gorges were still a wondrous sight.

After lunch they returned to Stiles’ room and did some studying. Lydia stopped by her car to bring in a book that was two inches thick at least. Stiles offered her the desk, since that’s what Kira preferred, but she stacked some pillows behind her back and sat on the bed. Stiles took his usual place on the bean bag chair (which Lydia gave an askance look) and started outlining his next paper for English.

Stiles took Lydia into downtown Ithaca so they could walk the Commons. They checked out the shops and got something to eat at Sahara Mediterranean Restaurant, which Lydia had scouted out when they first started their walk. When Stiles’ was crashing and burning at getting them into a comedy show, Lydia flipped her hair and gave the woman manning the door a smile that succeeded. Stiles wondered what Kira and Lydia had that he didn’t.

Sunday morning they supported the fight to find a cure by getting breakfast at Pancakes for Parkinson’s and then wandered over to the Equestrian Show before they returned to Dickson where Stiles sadly watched Lydia repack her bags and helped her carry them to her car.

Stiles gave Lydia a hug that rivaled the one he’d given her upon her arrival. He watched her car until he couldn’t see it anymore, then returned to his room and texted Scott, who answered immediately even though it was only eight am in Beacon Hills. They arranged a Skype session and played video games until Kira stopped by to invite Stiles to join her and her parents for lunch before they left.

Stiles would’ve rather gnawed off his arm than sit through another meal with Noshiko studying him, but he accepted because he liked Kira, and her dad wasn’t too bad. Stiles said goodbye to Scott, who said he had to get ready to meet Allison for brunch anyway.

~*~

The next week Stiles approached Derek when he saw him walking a group of dogs that looked different from the others. Stiles wondered how many dogs he walked.

“Hey,” Stiles said when he fell into step with Derek.

Derek’s response was a grunt and a glare.

“Nice to see you, too,” Stiles said. “We need to talk. Well, I need to talk. I’ve been doing some research.” Stiles paused and looked around, then lowered his voice. “Into the people Peter killed.”

Stiles had been thinking about this for a while now, and he figured it was time to come clean and bring Derek into the loop regarding the information he’d uncovered about Peter and the fire.

“What are you talking about?” Derek growled.

“The people he killed seemed random, but I don’t think they were. I think they were all connected.” Stiles counted off on his fingers. “Two known arsonists, a chemistry teacher, an insurance adjuster, and a hunter.”

Derek stumbled. “A hunter?”

“Kate Argent,” Stiles said.

Derek’s expression went blank, but not before Stiles saw the intense pain that just hearing her name brought him. “What’s your point?”

“Seriously?” Stiles said. “They’re all connected to the fire that killed your family. Peter was crazy, but he wasn’t randomly killing people; he was taking revenge.”

“You need to stay out of it, Stiles,” Derek said.

“I can’t,” Stiles said. “My best friend Scott is dating Allison Argent.”

Derek looked shocked. “That’s a mistake.”

“Allison is nice, but . . . her dad. He’s kind of intense, and he doesn’t like Scott.”

Derek snorted. “A werewolf hunter not loving the idea of his daughter dating a werewolf. What a shock.”

“Yeah, well . . . do you think he knew?”

Derek’s clenched his jaw and Stiles didn’t think he was going to answer, but he finally said, “I don’t know. They’re supposed to adhere to a code . . .”

Stiles had heard all about the ‘code’. “But Kate didn’t.”

Derek turned his face away. “No. My family . . . some of them were human. And some of them were children. She didn’t care.”

“Jesus,” Stiles swore. He’d read about it, but reading the clinical words in the reports was different from hearing about it from Derek.

“Do they know I’m here?” Derek said. “The Argents.”

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “I mean, I talked about you a bit before I knew you were you, but once I found out who you were . . . I told Scott to make sure Chris Argent didn’t find out about you.”

Derek nodded, then changed the subject. “I’ve got to return these dogs.”

Stiles glanced to the spot they were nearing, that was filled with women (and a couple of men) who looked like they wanted to eat Derek up. “I hope you get paid a lot for this,” Stiles said.

Derek gave Stiles a smile filled with teeth. “I do.”

Stiles laughed. “Good for you.”

Stiles kept going straight when Derek turned off to return the dogs to their owners. He kept it to himself, but he couldn’t help thinking, it was Kate Argent, wasn’t it, who betrayed your trust. Stiles thought about a grown woman like Kate taking advantage of a sixteen year old boy and shuddered.

~*~

The next time Stiles saw Derek, he received a grudging invitation out to their place so he could see the animals.

“Not that I’m not thrilled at the prospect at petting the animals,” Stiles said, “but why?”

“Laura wants to get to know you.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

Derek did not attempt to put Stiles’ mind at ease. Still, Sunday afternoon when Kira was in kickboxing, Stiles drove out to Top Dog, thankful that the Jeep had started after sitting for so long. He’d looked up the address on Google Maps and realized that they’d built their business on Route 13, inside a state park. It took Stiles a little bit longer than the twelve minutes the directions said it would to find the Hale place, since he drove slower than usual so he wouldn’t miss it.

Laura saw Stiles pull to a stop at the end of the long driveway and met him as he climbed out of the Jeep. “Hello, Stiles.”

“Hi,” Stiles said, wiping his palm on the seat of his pants. “Where’s Derek?”

“Moping,” Laura said, which startled a laugh out of Stiles.

“Did he tell you about Peter?” Stiles said, wanting to get that part of the conversation over with.

“About the revenge killings?” Laura said.

“That. And the fact that I killed him.”

“He mentioned it,” Laura said.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Peter was your uncle, and revenge killings are a thing now. Plus, you’ve lured me out to a remote location with the promise of petting animals.”

Laura smiled at that. “What if I was?”

“Then I should warn you that I’ve told no less than three people where I am right now, including my dad. Who’s a sheriff.”

“I’ve heard,” Laura said. She wasn’t laughing out loud, but it sounded like she might be laughing inside. “Come on, let’s go pet some animals.”

Stiles followed Laura to an outdoor pen that was connected to a building that must contain their cages. In the pen was a litter of puppies and a . . . “Oh my god,” Stiles gasped. “You have wolves here?”

“We rescue a lot of animals,” Laura said without answering the question. “Being on the edge of the preserve, we get some wild animals, too.”

“He’s not gonna bite me if I go in there, is he?” Stiles said.

“Nah,” Laura said. “He’s a marshmallow, really.”

The wolf snorted and turned its back on them as if it understood her. Laura ignored the wolf and opened the gate. She stepped inside and waited for Stiles to do the same before locking the gate behind them. Laura sat and puppies immediately engulfed her. The wolf looked put out that he’d lost his playmates.

“Hey, big fella,” Stiles said, sitting very carefully within arm’s reach of the wolf. The wolf tensed up when Stiles reached out to pet it, but slowly relaxed when Stiles kept his hand on the wolf’s back.

It was a cool and breezy 36 degrees and Stiles was never more glad for the hat he’d bought at the Apple Harvest Festival, or the winter coat courtesy of an LL Bean delivery from his dad. Especially after he’d been sitting on the ground for a few minutes. He shivered and the wolf moved closer as if it sensed that Stiles was cold. The warm length of the wolf along his leg was a comfort. The wolf didn’t protest when Stiles petted his neck and ears, then it abruptly stood and leapt the pen wall.

“What the . . . ?” Stiles said, startled by the sudden movement.

Laura turned to watch the wolf leave, then looked back at Stiles. “Don’t worry, he’s just embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?”

“That he enjoyed that,” Laura said enigmatically, then changed the subject. “Tell me what’s been going on in Beacon Hills.”

“I presume you don’t mean my exploits on the lacrosse field,” Stiles said as Laura deposited a puppy into his lap. “Or inability to get a date.”

Laura shrugged. “Sure.”

Stiles told Laura about the night Scott got bit, and how Satomi had helped him gain control.

“I remember Satomi,” Laura said, her eyes far away. “She was a friend of my mom’s.”

“She used to bring her stinky tea,” Derek said, startling Stiles.

Laura just smiled, as if she’d heard his approach. “Yeah. I tried it once because I figured it had to taste better than it smelled since they both liked it so much.” She grimaced. “It didn’t.”

Stiles stayed for about an hour before he thought he might be wearing out his welcome. When he looked like he was going to shiver out of his skin they scooted the puppies inside where they were put in one large pen. Stiles helped feed them, and then watched them tumble into a pile where they fell asleep.

Laura said her goodbyes, and then went off to do more work with the animals, which left Derek to walk Stiles to the Jeep. Derek only wore a light leather jacket, but he didn’t look cold at all. He waited until Stiles was in the Jeep and had started it, frowning at the skip before the engine sputtered to life.

“You can come back. If you want,” Derek said before Stiles pulled the door shut.

“Who could resist an invitation like that?” Stiles said.

~*~

Between classes and work, studying and runs with Kira, intermural soccer games that Kira dragged him to and a couple more trips out to Top Dog, one where Kira tagged along, November went by in a rush and the run up to the end of the first semester picked up steam. So of course Kira and Stiles found a body when they were out running the weekend before Thanksgiving Break.

It was foggy with a hint of snow in the air, the perfect day to stumble over a body, Stiles thought. The student had been shot with an arrow – Stiles recognized the jagged holes left behind when an arrow was yanked out – and cut in half. Stiles was caught between looking around them to see if the hunters who’d done this were still around, and thinking, oh my god, Samuel. A sound on the path behind them had them both turning. Stiles searched for a rock or stick he could use as a weapon, and Kira unhooked her belt. Stiles thought she intended to use it like a whip, but as soon as it was off, it snapped together and formed a sword.

Stiles didn’t have time to be impressed, because the footsteps were getting closer. He nearly collapsed with relief when Derek appeared out of the trees.

“What’s wrong?” Derek said.

“How did you . . . ?”

Derek looked past them and saw the body. “Who is it?”

“Samuel,” Kira said, her voice a little bit shaky. “He lives in our dorm.”

“Come on,” Derek said when he looked at Stiles’ face, “let’s get further back.”

“He was killed by hunters,” Stiles said.

“Or someone who wanted to make it look like hunters,” Derek, already on the phone to Laura, said.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Kira said.

“When hunters may be involved, I call my Alpha first,” Derek said firmly, but not unkindly.

After conferring with Laura, Derek called Professor Hughes, who would take care of alerting the necessary authorities. Kira gave her sword a shake and it fell into disjointed sections which she clasped back around her waist. They moved back to the head of the trail to wait for the authorities, diverting anyone who was coming down it.

The first person to arrive was Laura, followed soon after by Professor Hughes. Laura came from the opposite direction of the university, though, so Stiles knew she’d taken a detour to check out the body.

“Are either of you hurt?” Laura asked Stiles and Kira. When they both shook their heads, she said, “Are you alright?”

“I’ve never seen a dead body before,” Kira said, sounding shaken up.

Stiles wished he could say the same. He’d seen way too many dead bodies, and it didn’t gt any easier.

Laura pulled Kira into a hug, and when she let her go, Kira slid under Stiles’ arm. Derek watched as she did so, then looked away. Laura ran her hand up Stiles’ arm in a comforting gesture, then moved over to Derek. The both of them spoke in low tones that Stiles couldn’t hear. If Kira was eavesdropping, she didn’t give any indication of it.

When Professor Hughes arrived he questioned Stiles and Kira, then went down to examine the body himself. He was back before the authorities reached them, and was able to lead them to the body. Two officers took Stiles and Kira aside and questioned them separately, then they questioned Derek. Stiles unashamedly listened in.

Derek told the authorities that he was out running when he heard Stiles’ and Kira’s startled cries, and so he came to see what was wrong. After he finished his statement, Stiles sidled over to Derek and said, low, “We didn’t cry out.”

“I heard your heartbeat go crazy,” Derek said, “but I couldn’t exactly tell them that.”

It was true, but Derek shifted uncomfortably, which Stiles had come to learn meant he’d revealed something personal. Stiles gave it some thought, but couldn’t figure out what it was.

After they were done being questioned, Laura insisted that they not be alone yet. She had driven down in the Expedition (Derek actually had been out running when he’d heard Stiles’ heartbeat), and so she drove everyone out to their place. Both Stiles and Kira felt a little bit better after hot cocoa and kitten cuddles.

Derek drove them back to university while Laura stayed home to oversee the care of the animals. “Call me if you need anything,” Derek said when he pulled up in front of Dickson. “Or if you see or hear anything suspicious.”

“Will do,” Stiles said blithely.

Derek rolled down his window. “I mean it, Stiles. Don’t play the hero.”

Stiles turned back to respond to Derek’s comment about playing hero, but instead started grinning.

“What?” Derek said suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Stiles said, not even trying to make it sound believable. Derek had his head stuck out the window, right over the lettering on the door that advertised the name of their business, Top Dog.

Derek frowned. “Keep him out of trouble,” he told Kira, and then he rolled up the window as he pulled away.

Stiles looked at Kira and said, “Top dog.”

Kira rolled her eyes and said, “You wish.”

Stiles laughed, then said, “Wait, what does that mean? Kira!”

~*~

Stiles took a long, hot shower, and then he called his dad.

“What’s wrong?” his dad said immediately.

“Nothing,” Stiles lied. “It’s just been a long day and I wanted to hear your voice. Tell me something to take my mind off it.”

“I’m eating curly fries right now.”

Stiles sat up as if he was a puppet whose strings had been jerked. “What?”

His father was, in fact, not eating curly fries, but a discussion on Healthy Eating While Your Son Is Away At College ensued and it did take Stiles’ mind off the events of earlier. At least for a little while.

Stiles and Kira got a lot of stares and whispers when they left the dorm for supper, so they rushed through it and returned to Stiles’ room. They tried to study, but couldn’t concentrate, so Stiles pulled up Netflix and they watched some more ‘Orphan Black’ until they were tired enough to fall asleep.

The next day Stiles was called into a meeting with Hughes; he figured that Kira probably had to meet with her advisor, as well. Hughes asked Stiles the questions he couldn’t yesterday in front of the authorities, and told him that they had counseling available, if Stiles wanted to take advantage of it.

Stiles did not. But he did ask whether they’d had any hunter-related deaths there in the past.

“Yes,” Hughes said, “but it’s been a very long time. Something’s changed.”

As soon as he got out of the meeting, Stiles texted Scott. _u didn’t tell Argent about Derek did u_

Stiles received a return text almost immediately. _no_

The phone rang and Stiles knew it was Scott before he even looked at the screen. He told Scott what had happened. “I didn’t tell my dad; I didn’t want him to worry.”

“I won’t tell him,” Scott promised, “but Stiles, hunters? I thought that was supposed to be a safe place.”

“So did I,” Stiles said. So had Derek and Laura, he thought after he’d ended the call.

~*~

After the murder, Kira tried again to convince Stiles to go home with her for Thanksgiving. “I’m worried about you being here alone,” she said when Stiles declined.

“I’m not going to be alone,” Stiles said. A lot of other students weren’t able to travel home for the holiday, either. “There’s that guy Troy and his boyfriend.”

“I thought Leon had a girlfriend back home,” Kira said.

“Maybe so, but that didn’t keep them from desecrating the laundry room a couple weeks ago,” Stiles said.

Stiles thought he’d done a good job of distracting Kira, but he got a phone call Tuesday night from Derek. “You’re not going home for Thanksgiving?”

“Hello to you, too, Derek,” Stiles said. He sighed and let his head fall back onto the beanbag chair. “Did Kira call you?”

“Answer the question, Stiles.”

“No, Derek, I’m not going home for Thanksgiving. Not everyone can afford to fly home for every break.” Stiles hoped his voice didn’t betray how much he wished he could.

“You shouldn’t be there alone,” Derek said, ignoring Stiles’ irritation.

“I’m not going to be alone . . .”

There was a scuffle on the other end of the phone, and the next voice Stiles heard was Laura’s. “Hello, Stiles.”

“Laura,” Stiles said warily.

“If you don’t agree to come stay with us for the break, your father is going to get an anonymous tip about a murder on the Cornell campus,” Laura said sweetly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Is that really the hill you want to die on?” Laura said. They both went silent as they digested that. “Bad choice of words,” Laura said, “but the point is . . .”

Stiles sighed. “Alright, fine.”

“. . . that I do not feel comfortable . . . Wait, what?”

“I said ‘fine’,” Stiles repeated.

“Wonderful,” Laura said. “We’ll see you tonight after your shift in the dining hall.”

“How do you know my schedule?”

“There are a lot of things I know, Stiles,” Laura said enigmatically.

A moment later Derek said, “Um, hi. Again.”

“You didn’t say hi a first time,” Stiles said dryly, then, “Is your sister always this bossy?”

There was a moment of silence when Stiles thought he might’ve insulted Derek, but then he said, “Yes,” which made Stiles laugh. He thought he heard Derek laugh, too, but he couldn’t be sure.

Kira ate with Stiles before his shift since they wouldn’t see each other again until Sunday.

“Derek called,” Stiles said.

“Oh?” Kira said.

“Yes,” Stiles said dryly. “Seems a little birdie told them I wasn’t going home for Thanksgiving.”

“I was just worried about you!” Kira said, giving up on pretending she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that I’m staying with Derek and Laura over break.”

“I know,” Kira said smugly. “And I am happy.”

Stiles took a shower after his shift to get rid of the smell of working in the dishwashing room. Even though it was just after seven pm, it felt much later because it got dark so early. Stiles packed up some clothes, his computer, and some books; he didn’t try to take everything because he’d be close enough to come back if he needed something else.

Stiles texted Derek to let him know he was on his way, and then headed for the lot where the Jeep was parked. He was not used to walking campus alone when it was this empty, and his skin started to crawl. It’s nothing, Stiles told himself, just my imagination. He reached the Jeep without anyone (or anything) jumping out at him, and she started on the third try.

“That’s my girl,” Stiles muttered, patting the dash. Maybe it _was_ a good thing he was getting away from the campus, Stiles thought, as he pulled the Jeep out of her parking spot.

~*~

Derek was outside waiting for Stiles when he pulled the Jeep to a stop outside the large farmhouse. He shoved the puppy he held into Stiles’ arms without speaking, and retrieved Stiles’ bags from the backseat.

“I can get those,” Stiles said, but it was only a half-hearted offer because he had an armful of puppy that he was reluctant to let go of.

Stiles followed Derek into the house. He’d only been as far as the kitchen before, where they’d sat around the table sipping hot cocoa, and down the hall to the bathroom, which had given him a glimpse into the living room. Derek carried Stiles’ bags up the stairs, and Stiles trailed after him so he’d know where he’d be staying. The guestroom looked out over the back of the property and shared a Jack and Jill bathroom with the second guestroom.

Derek pointed out his room (across the hall from Stiles, and also looking out over the backyard) and Laura’s (across from the other guestroom and looking out over the front yard) in case he needed them for anything. Stiles appreciated the gesture, but he wished Derek hadn’t made it when his mind started imagining the various reasons he’d need to call on Derek during the night. He was very glad that the puppy distracted him just then by licking his nose.

“Where’s Laura?” Stiles said when Derek led the way back down to the kitchen where he stirred a pot waiting on the stove.

“Checking on Jenny,” Derek said.

Stiles sat on the floor and let the puppy loose. “The alpaca? What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s going to give birth soon,” Derek said. He got down three bowls out of the cupboard and even though he’d already eaten Stiles didn’t stop him; whatever Derek had made smelled really good.

“A baby alpaca? Balpaca?” Stiles tried, then shook his head. “I thought she was just gaining weight the last time I was here, like for winter.”

Derek gave Stiles a look that was more indulgent than his usual ‘you’re such a moron’ look. “She’s not a bear.”

Derek’s attention drifted for a moment, then he bent to pull out a tray of rolls from the oven. Stiles admired the way Derek’s jeans pulled across his ass, guiltily jerking his gaze away when Derek turned to set butter and flatware on the table.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Stiles offered belatedly.

“It’s all ready to go when Laura gets here,” Derek said.

As if she’d just been waiting for her cue, Laura stepped into the mud room off the kitchen. The puppy forgot about Stiles and skidded across the floor to greet her. Even though he’d been invited (blackmailed) to stay with them for the break, Stiles felt self-conscious. He got off the floor and waited for Laura to divest herself of her outerwear. She had her face buried in the puppy’s neck when she entered the kitchen. Stiles grinned, and glanced at Derek to see if he was seeing this, only to find Derek already looking at him. Derek looked away quickly, but that didn’t stop a bloom of heat to fill Stiles’ belly.

“Wash your hands,” Derek reminded Laura brusquely as he ladled what turned out to be beef stew into bowls.

Stiles waited until Laura had washed her hands and Derek had set the three bowls and basket of rolls on the table to sit.

“Thanks for coming,” Laura said, surprising Stiles.

“Well, your invitation was so kind,” he said.

Laura laughed and kicked him under the table. “We wanted you to be safe,” she said, then ate a spoonful of the stew. “Tastes good, baby brother.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but said, “Thanks.”

The stew _was_ good, and Stiles was hungrier than he’d thought he’d be. They enjoyed the meal in silence for a few minutes.

“This is good,” Stiles said as he reached for a roll. “Do you guys switch off cooking?”

Derek snorted and nearly choked on a mouthful of stew.

Laura glared at him. “Serves you right, but no,” she directed to Stiles. “Derek is the cook.”

“Because he’s so good?” Stiles guessed.

“Because she’s so bad,” Derek said, then ducked a roll Laura aimed at his head.

The moment reminded him of home, and Stiles wondered what his dad and Scott were doing right now. He was drawn out of his thoughts by Laura’s next comment.

“Remember the first time I tried to bake cookies?”

“How could I forget?” Derek said dryly.

Stiles waited to hear more, but that appeared to be all they were going to say on the matter until Laura said, “I tasted the vanilla extract.”

“Because it smelled so good,” Derek and Laura finished together.

Stiles knew from personal experience that vanilla extract did not taste as good as it smelled, but he wasn’t going to admit to it. “You do that a lot, don’t you?” he said, remembering the stinky tea story.

Laura chuckled and Derek actually cracked a smile. Everyone went back to eating, but Stiles couldn’t stand the silence. He said, “So, balpaca?”

~*~

The next day, Laura said, “Can you bake pie?”

Stiles halted in the process of cleaning out a pen. He’d started out in his heavy coat, but was now in a sweatshirt because, even though the temperature was only supposed to get to thirty-five degrees, he’d worked up a sweat doing chores in the barn. “Was that a prerequisite of me staying here?”

Laura laughed. “No. I was just curious. Derek actually makes pretty good pies.”

“Pretty good?” Derek said, appearing with a bale of hay in each hand.

Laura smirked, which meant she’d known that Derek was near. “You still insist on making mince meat pie, so that earns you negative points on the pie scale.”

Stiles’ gaze moved to Derek, who rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to eat the mince meat pie.”

“What’s mince meat pie?” Stiles said.

“Disgusting,” Laura said at the same time Derek said, “Apples and raisins, mostly. But I add other things, like cranberries, cherries . . .”

“Dried apricots, figs,” Laura continued.

“Rum,” Derek added.

“It doesn’t sound so bad,” Stiles said, though he was dubious about the apricots and figs, which he’d never tried, and he wasn’t a huge fan of cherries if they didn’t come on top of a hot fudge sundae. Still, the image of Derek covered in flour as he made pies was stuck in Stiles’ head. He ignored Laura’s scoff and said, “I’ve never baked a pie, but I can help do something.”

“And you will, young Padawan,” Laura said ominously.

“Wait,” Stiles said. “You’ve seen ‘Star Wars’?”

“Who hasn’t?” Laura said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Scott.”

Laura gasped theatrically.

“I like her,” Stiles told Derek.

“Of course you do.” Derek was breaking apart one of the bales of hay so Stiles couldn’t see is face, but he could _hear_ the eye roll.

“She’s awesome!” Stiles said.

“She’s alright,” Derek allowed.

Laura snorted, but Stiles ignored her to continue his argument with Derek. “Kira hasn’t even seen ‘Star Wars’!”

Derek didn’t respond to that.

“Wait, have _you_ seen ‘Star Wars’?” Stiles said.

“What if I haven’t?” Derek said, challenge in his tone.

“I’ll be here ‘til Sunday,” Stiles said, grinning. “We’ve got plenty of time to rectify that.”

Derek raised his head then, listened. “Sounds like Kelly’s Neon.” Derek rubbed his hands together to rid them of chafe, then exited the barn.

“He can tell the difference between cars just by hearing them?” Stiles said.

Laura had a weird expression on her face, but she wiped it away when Stiles turned to her. “Sometimes the engines have a different sound, yeah, but in this case Kelly has a skip. She’s gonna drive this car until it dies, and then get another one.”

Stiles nodded. “So, who’s Kelly?”

Laura smirked, but she answered. “She brings her dog for lessons. He belonged to her aunt; Kelly ended up with him when the aunt had to go into an assisted living facility. He’s grieving, so he’s been displaying some anxiety.”

“You can train that out of him?” Stiles said.

“Not exactly,” Laura said. “You train him to realize that when she leaves, she’s coming back.”

The way Laura said that hit Stiles just right and his eyes burned. He blinked away the tears. “Can I watch? Or will that screw up the lesson?”

“No, go watch,” Laura said. It sounded like she was laughing to herself.

The lesson was amazing and painful. Stiles found himself getting turned on more than once at the way Derek handled the dog so gently, at the command in his voice when he spoke.

After the lesson Stiles followed Derek back into the house where Laura was putting together lunch. “You’re cooking?” Stiles said as he waited to wash his hands in the sink. “I thought that was Derek’s purview.”

“I can set out fixings for sandwiches,” Laura said tartly.

“If you say so,” Stiles said doubtfully, which earned him a snort from Derek and a glare from Laura.

After lunch Laura left for a house-call training session while Derek cleaned up lunch and prepared to make pies. Stiles rinsed plates and flatware and stacked them in the dishwasher, then watched Derek set up his workspace. A wooden duck with a clothespin beak held the pie crust recipe, which someone had written out on an index card.

Derek stirred up and rolled out enough dough for three pies, one of which didn’t need a top crust. He’d made the fillings ahead of time, and told Stiles so in a gruff voice that send a shiver down his spine.

“Why do you sound so defensive about it?” Stiles said. “Seems like a good idea to me.”

“Laura makes fun of me, but it’s easier when you spread out the work.”

Stiles huffed. “You’d think the person getting pie made for them wouldn’t make fun of the person making them.”

Derek didn’t reply to that, but he grinned down at the pie pan he was filling with a pumpkin mixture.

“Can’t you just buy that in a can?” Stiles said.

“You could,” Derek said, sounding as if only philistines would do so. “We’ve got a pumpkin patch out back, if we can get to them before the deer.” He shrugged. “Plus, it just tastes better when it’s made from scratch.”

Stiles nodded as if he understood. The pumpkin pie went into the oven, then Derek filled the apple and mince meat pies. Stiles looked closely at the filling for the mince meat pie, and Derek gave him the container in which he’d left a tiny bit of filling for Stiles to try. It was not bad, though Stiles couldn’t be sure that wasn’t the rum talking.

Derek laid the top crust on the pies, trimmed them, then crimped the edges together. Stiles got lost staring at Derek’s fingers.

“My mom couldn’t bake,” Stiles said. “She could cook like nobody’s business, her lasagna was the best I’ve ever tasted, even better than Melissa’s, but she couldn’t bake. She even managed to ruin box mixes, or so my dad told me. One of the first things she taught me was to add oil and egg to a box brownie mix so I could do the baking.”

“Your mom was a nice lady,” Derek said absently.

“You knew my mom?” Stiles said.

“Yeah. She used to come visit my mom.”

“She did? About what?”

Derek shrugged, then looked at Stiles. “I don’t know, sorry. I was, like, fourteen, I had other things on my mind than who was visiting with my mom.”

Stiles had been a precocious child and he’d liked nothing more than to eavesdrop on his parents, but he couldn’t recall ever hearing anything about his mom visiting the Hales. Maybe Laura knew more; he’d have to remember to ask her, but he put it away for now and went back to watching Derek finish the crusts.

Stiles was sitting in the pen with the puppies watching Derek train one of them. The mother had been a rescue, and she’d been pregnant when they took her in. The puppies were nearly old enough to be weaned from their mother, and they wouldn’t be with them long, especially since Derek and Laura trained the puppies in basic commands before they were adopted, and offered additional lessons at a discount. Stiles was going to miss coming out to pet them.

The mother was a mid-size German Shepherd that had sniffed Stiles pretty thoroughly before letting him into the pen with her and the puppies. Based on the coloring of some of the puppies, and the size of their paws, the father had been a humongous black lab. The puppy Derek was training now was a small female the spitting image of her mother, and she was smart as a whip.

Laura came home when Stiles had his hands in a mixture of ground turkey, bread crumbs, eggs, and seasoning. Derek had put everything in the bowl and told Stiles to mix it and form meatballs while he reheated the homemade spaghetti sauce he’d taken out of the freezer earlier. The kitchen smelled good when the meatballs were in the oven and the sauce was simmering.

While he was helping Laura clean up after dinner because Derek had cooked, Stiles said, “Do you guys have Netflix?”

“What, you think we were raised by wolves?” Laura said.

After a beat, Stiles snorted. Laura laughed. Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles was pretty sure that he turned away to hide a smidgeon of a smile.

That evening they each did some reading – Stiles for Anthro, Derek for a class that included a lot of numbers, and Laura the local paper – after which they made popcorn and let Stiles put on ‘Star Wars’. It turned out that Derek _had_ seen the movies, which Stiles discovered because Derek couldn’t stop himself from quoting a scene just before it aired, which was something Stiles did that drove Scott nuts. Stiles glared at Derek, but then they made a game out of who could quote an upcoming scene first. Laura rolled her eyes and tossed popcorn at them both.

~*~

When he woke up Thursday morning, it took Stiles a few moments to recall that it was Thanksgiving. He checked the time on his phone. It was much too early to call his dad, even if he was taking the day shift so someone could have the time off to spend with their family. Stiles pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt and stumbled into the bathroom before heading down the stairs to the smell of bacon.

“It’s about time,” Laura said when Stiles practically fell into the kitchen. “We were waiting for you,” she explained at Stiles’ confused expression.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Stiles said.

“The correct response is ‘thank you’,” Laura said as she poured glasses of orange juice all around.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, slipping into the chair at the table that had become his in the short time he’d been there.

“Derek’s making omelette’s,” Laura announced as she put bread in the toaster and pushed down the lever.

“Ooh, what kind?” Stiles said.

“Cheese and tomato,” Derek said. “It’s nothing fancy.”

“There’s a Derek answer if I ever heard one,” Stiles said. “I’d say it smells good, but I can’t smell anything over the bacon.” Stiles stole a piece off the plate when Laura set it on the table. Butter, jam, and flatware were already on the table.

They ate a leisurely breakfast because there were no appointments that day, and Derek didn’t need to start cooking the turkey until after lunch since they were eating the traditional meal at dinner time. They cleaned up the breakfast dished, then went out to the pens where the puppies were ecstatic to see them.

The mama dog, Brandy, sniffed Stiles as if she hadn’t done the same thing every visit to the pens, then let him pick up the small black ball of fluff that Stiles thought of as a kindred spirit. Derek had nicknamed the puppy Doofus because he couldn’t walk five feet without tripping over his own paws, and when Derek told him to ‘sit’ he licked Derek’s face instead, which was pretty awesome in Stiles’ estimation.

Stiles got in some cuddle time, then put the puppy down so he could help with the chores. When the pens were cleaned and the animals all fed, Laura checked on Jenny and Stiles hovered. The alpaca was doing fine, though Laura thought she was getting really close. Laura then chose a puppy to give some additional training, and Derek gave Stiles a training lesson with Doofus.

Derek kept saying things like, “Stiles, pay attention,” because Stiles’ attention span was about as narrow as Doofus’. Eventually Derek said, “You’re impossible,” and gave up.

It took Stiles a few minutes to realize that Derek had left the two of them alone to roll around on the grass and wrestle with a stick. He felt a little bit guilty that Derek had been trying to help him learn how to train a puppy and Stiles had pretty much blown him off. Laura was still training, though she’d traded one puppy for another. Stiles put Doofus back in the pen and headed for the house.

Derek was slicing vegetables at the counter and he didn’t look up when Stiles entered the kitchen. Stiles shifted on his feet as he searched for something to say.

“What are you making?”

“Vegetable platter,” Derek said without any additional explanation.

“Can I help?”

“I’ve got it,” Derek said shortly.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Stiles said.

Derek hummed.

“I am!”

“So if we went back out there you’d pay attention?” Derek said wryly.

“Um . . .”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to learn,” Derek said in a tone that meant it was not fine, but Stiles couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t fine. “I just thought you might be interested is all.”

“I am interested,” Stiles said, suddenly wondering if they were still talking about puppy training.

“It’s fine if you’re not,” Derek said again.

“I am,” Stiles repeated. “Now are you going to let me help?”

“You expect me to put a knife in your hand?” Derek said.

Derek used the remaining cheese and diced tomatoes from breakfast, along with leftover chicken and a can of diced olives to make quesadillas for lunch. Clean up was quick, which was lucky because at twelve-thirty Laura planted herself in front of the television with warnings to both Derek and Stiles not to interrupt her football viewing.

“Wow,” Stiles said to Derek as he peeked into the living room where Laura was avidly awaiting the start of the first game. “She really likes her football.”

“You have no idea,” Derek said.

“I can hear you!” Laura yelled.

Stiles and Derek joined Laura in the living room. This time Stiles was doing some studying for Botany and Derek was reading a novel that looked like it was for a class rather than for fun. It was a cozy, congenial hour except for the one time Stiles’ highlighter squeaked a little loudly on the page and Laura gave him a warning look.

“Sheesh,” Stiles said in an aside to Derek, who smirked without taking his eyes off the page he was reading.

At half-time Laura and Derek both moved; Laura to take a potty break and Derek to the kitchen. Stiles looked around him at the suddenly empty living room, then followed Derek, who was doing something to the turkey he’d left sitting on the counter, and then shoved the roasting pan into the oven.

Derek washed his hands and directed Stiles to get the dip he’d made earlier out of the fridge, as well as the two different kinds of hummus that sat on the top shelf right next to the dip.

Derek scooped some of the dip into a bowl and made room for it in the middle of the vegetable platter while Stiles opened the bag of pita chips Derek tossed at him and dumped them into another bowl. Stiles opened the hummus and dipped one of the chips into it just in time because Laura appeared and whipped the tray out from under his hand and carried it in to the living room. “What . . . ?” Stiles said.

Derek snorted. “Take this tray; I’ll grab drinks.”

Drinks was a pitcher of filtered water with sliced lemons and limes in it, which was tastier than Stiles thought basically plain water would be. Since werewolves couldn’t feel the affects of alcohol, there wasn’t any in the house, and soda had an aftertaste that neither Derek nor Laura liked, Derek was explaining to Stiles when the second half started and Laura loudly shushed them.

After the first game ended, Stiles went upstairs to his temporary room for the illusion of privacy and called his dad. Things were quiet in Beacon Hills, aside from the usual Thanksgiving-related insanity, like two grown people fighting over the last can of cranberry sauce in the sale bin at the Safeway.

Stiles Skyped Scott, offered Happy Thanksgiving wishes to Melissa and Allison, and then made Scott go to his room so Stiles could talk to him in private. He told Scott that he was staying with Derek and Laura, and reminded Scott that his dad didn’t know about the murder and to not tell anyone (read: Chris Argent) about Derek and Laura.

Scott rolled his eyes. “I won’t, Stiles.”

Stiles found Derek and Laura in the kitchen. Derek was stirring together what Stiles later discovered was the stuffing while Laura sat at the island watching.

“Can I help?” Stiles said.

Derek tipped his head to indicate the potatoes in the sink. “Scrub those.”

Stiles picked up the brush Derek had helpfully left out for him and began scrubbing off the mixture of both red-skinned white and sweet potatoes. Derek then entrusted a knife into Stiles’ hand and had him cut the sweet potatoes into small chunks, which he then added to water already boiling on the stove.

Derek set the stuffing aside and washed his hands. He traded one index card for another in the clothespin mouth of the wooden duck and then pulled the items he needed out of the cupboards. Derek pushed a bag of pecans, a measuring cup, and a nut chopper across the island to Stiles and said, “Half a cup.”

Laura slid off the stool. “As much as I’d love to stay out here and watch the two of you be domestic, the next game is going to start soon.”

Laura smirked at Stiles before she left, and when he turned to see if Derek understood what she’d been talking about, Derek had his back to Stiles and was stabbing the potatoes with a fork a little more forcefully than necessary to see if they were done. There was a flush on the back of Derek’s neck that Stiles chalked up to the steam coming off the pot.

When they finally sat down to dinner, it was a quiet affair. Which Stiles understood, because holidays were the worst when it came to missing his mom. Stiles was surprised when Laura turned off the television to help them get the food onto the table, and then joined them at it. She held out her hands and both Stiles and Derek took them. Stiles reached across the table to take Derek’s hand when he offered it. They all bowed their heads and when Stiles realized that grace wasn’t going to be spoken out loud he thought, I miss you mom, keep watching over dad.

~*~

The rest of the break followed the same routine – chores, puppy cuddles, watching Derek and Laura train, and studying – with only two differences. Stiles asked Derek to help him train Doofus, and he actually paid attention this time. Stiles got frustrated a couple times because Doofus did not take well to training.

“The quiet ones are easier to train,” Derek said, indicating Doofus’ much smarter sister. “Puppies like this one have a very short attention span that’s mostly filled with play, play, play. It’ll take time, but you can do it.”

Stiles rewarded Doofus, and himself, with some wrestling. Stiles _let_ Doofus win, no matter what Derek said.

The other difference was that Jenny finally went into labor on Saturday. Laura was already out by the pen when Stiles woke. He fixed himself a bowl of cereal, then went out to help with chores. Derek was cleaning the pens and feeding the animals while Laura watched over Jenny.

“You’re out here early,” Stiles said when he stopped beside Laura.

“She started humming more, and moving around like she couldn’t get comfortable,” Laura explained. She appeared calm, but Stiles could tell that she was anxious. “It’s the first time we’ve ever done this,” she told Stiles. “There’s only so much you can learn from reading about it.”

Laura was distracted by Jenny’s status, constantly looking at her watch and double-checking the birthing kit she’d packed, so Derek took the training class they had scheduled for the morning, Teaching Old Dogs New Tricks. Stiles noticed that some of the same professors and admin staff for whom Derek walked dogs on campus had showed up.

“Some people like to take a refresher course,” Derek said. He almost sounded like he believed it, and if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t notice the discomfort.

Stiles stayed on the periphery of the training, but close enough for Derek to see him out of the corner of his eye. A couple times Derek jerked his head at Stiles, and he went off to check on Laura, nodding his head when he returned.

Derek seemed relieved when the training class was over and the stragglers who stayed behind to ask questions had finally driven off. He hurried in to check on Laura, and Stiles realized that Derek must’ve been able to sense her nerves over Jenny’s first birth while in their care.

“Stay with her,” Derek said after he’d checked on Laura, “I’m going to make lunch.”

“I’m not hungry, and I don’t need a babysitter,” Laura said.

“You’re going to eat anyway,” Derek said. “And Stiles is here in case you need help with Jenny.”

Derek made turkey sandwiches on homemade bread (he was like the Betty Crocker of werewolves. Maybe he did have a little werewolf oven) and they ate them leaning against the fence around the outside portion of Jenny’s pen. Even Stiles could see that the alpaca was more agitated, though he’d taken Laura’s word for it that her vulva was swollen.

Laura startled Stiles when she suddenly said, “Contractions!”

It took Stiles a moment before he could tell that Jenny’s stomach muscles were contracting, but then it became fascinating and he couldn’t look away. A black baseball-sized sac formed and Laura let out a sigh of relief when it broke and less water than Stiles thought should be the case spilled out of it.

Stiles quietly cheered when the first hoof appeared, then the other, then a nose. “Oh my god,” he said, his voice low so he didn’t disturb the mom-to-be.

For a while nothing else happened and Stiles began to worry. “She’s resting,” Derek said, as if he’d sensed Stiles’ agitation.

As if Jenny felt like she’d been maligned by Stiles’ concern, two legs and the head appeared. She rested again before pushing out most of the body, and then once more before the rest of the baby slipped out. Jenny had done it! Laura grabbed both Derek and Stiles into a hug, and Stiles automatically put both his arms around them and returned it.

Laura pulled away to leap over the fence with her birthing kit, leaving Derek and Stiles standing awkwardly with one arm around the other. Stiles looked at Derek, who looked back. For a moment Stiles thought something might happen, but then Derek carefully released Stiles and stepped back.

“Laura might need help,” Derek said, and vaulted the fence.

“Show off,” Stiles said. He satisfied himself with leaning over the fence and watching Derek and Laura clean off the balpaca (cria, Laura had informed him, but Stiles liked balpaca better) and put iodine on its navel.

They waited around to make sure the balbaca stood on its own, and then some more for the placenta to pass.

“Gross,” Stiles said as Laura snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and prepared to examine, then dispose of, it.

Stiles snapped some photos of mom and baby when the balpaca (“We have to name her so he stops calling her that,” Derek said.) began to feed and sent the best ones to Kira. Her response was a string of excited emojis followed by confused ones.

Stiles stayed with Derek and Laura until after lunch on Sunday. As much as he’d fussed about coming out here to stay over break, Stiles was going to miss it. Laura and Derek both walked Stiles to the Jeep. Laura waited until he’d stowed his bags in the backseat before giving him a hug. She told him to drive safe, visit anytime, and then left Stiles and Derek alone.

Derek looked like he wanted to kill Laura, which made the situation even more awkward.

“Yeah, so,” Stiles said. “Thanks for letting me stay with you. I know it was probably a pain in the ass for you guys.”

“It wasn’t,” Derek said quickly.

“Okay? Um . . .”

“Make sure you come back to visit Doofus before you leave for winter break,” Derek said.

“And Jiminy Cricket,” Stiles said, trying not to think about the ache he got in his chest when he thought about not seeing Derek for over six weeks.

“We’re not calling her that.”

“We’re totally calling her that,” Stiles said. He got into the Jeep and rolled the window down so he could continue talking to Derek as he turned the key in the ignition. “Maybe JC for short.”

Derek’s response was to cross his arms over his chest and glare at Stiles, as if that had ever worked. The temperature was only in the mid-30s, but Derek hadn’t put on a jacket over his t-shirt when he and Laura followed Stiles outside to see him off. The effect was . . . disconcerting.

“See you at school, big guy,” Stiles said to cover his reaction. He turned the Jeep around and drove down the long driveway, keeping one eye on Derek’s reflection in the mirror. Derek stood outside watching Stiles leave until Stiles could no longer see him.

It felt strange to unlock the door and step into his dorm room, and he’d only been gone for five days. Stiles took advantage of the dorm still being relatively empty to do a couple loads of laundry. Even after his clothes were folded and put away, Stiles’ room felt much too quiet. He loaded up his backpack and went down to the study lounge to wait for Kira to return. Some people stopped by to talk briefly, but most people saw that he had his head buried in a book and left him alone.

Stiles got a hug when Kira finally arrived, and a worried look from her mother. “How are you doing, Stiles?” Noshiko said.

“I’m fine,” Stiles said.

“Kira told me that you spent the break with Derek and Laura Hale.”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Noshiko said with a satisfaction that confused Stiles.

Stiles sat on Kira’s bed while she unpacked clean clothes she’d been able to wash at home and told her about Doofus and JC. Kira was eager to see the balpaca (“Oh my god, stop calling it a balpaca!”), as well as Derek and Laura. They went to dinner together and then hung out, supposedly studying, but mostly talking.

They got back into the swing of things on Monday, but at the end of the week it was over. There was a study period from Saturday through Tuesday before exams began on Wednesday. Stiles was either locked in the library or in his room, and so he didn’t get a chance to see Derek, even in passing, until Monday morning when he attended the study group for Anthro.

By Tuesday both Stiles and Kira needed a break, so after lunch they drove out to the Hale place. Kira cooed over JC and praised Doofus when he sat on command, even though he immediately tried to leap on her and lick her face.

“How are you getting home?” Derek said while they were watching Kira charm JC.

Stiles got distracted by a snowflake that landed in Derek’s eyelashes, but he finally managed to decipher the question and answer it. “I’m flying out on Friday. From Tompkins.”

Derek nodded. “Good.”

“Good?”

“I’m glad you’re not going to try to drive that . . . Jeep all the way across country again, especially in the winter. Haven’t you ever heard of winter tires?”

“Yes, I’ve heard of winter tires,” Stiles said, his hackles raising at Derek’s dismissive tone about the Jeep. “I’ll have you know those tires are all-season.”

Derek gave Stiles a dubious look. “I’m sure they were when you put them on. How are you getting to the airport?”

Derek’s change of subject caught Stiles up short. “I’m driving there.”

“And leaving your Jeep there?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you leave your Jeep here?” Derek said.

Stiles was going to argue just for the principle of it, but he was distracted by the pink at the tip of Derek’s ears, which Stiles would’ve normally attributed to the cold, except that even when it was freezing outside Derek gave off heat like a furnace. “Okay.”

Derek looked as surprised as Stiles felt at his quick acceptance of the offer, but he just nodded.

Stiles’ final exam was Thursday morning, but when he staggered out of it and back to his room he was glad that he hadn’t tried to get a flight out that afternoon. He’d barely had time to sleep for the past week and a half, much less pack for the trip home. Stiles dropped his coat on the beanbag chair and flopped face-first onto the bed. He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until mid-afternoon. He considered getting some more sleep, but his stomach growled to remind him that the only thing he’d had for breakfast that morning was bad coffee.

On the way to the dining hall, Stiles ran into Derek. Stiles didn’t say anything about the dogs, other than to ask to pet them, or about the creep-os who signed up for Derek’s dog-walking services. The corners of Derek’s eyes crinkled when he saw the state Stiles was in.

“Where are you headed?” Derek said.

“Food,” Stiles said.

“How’d your exam go?”

“Good. I think.”

“Where’s Kira?”

“She went home yesterday after her last exam.”

“So you’re alone?”

“Well, I’m not technically alone,” Stiles said, because there were still loads of students on campus.

“You wanna spend the night at our place and I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning?”

“Yes, please!” Stiles said eagerly, unaware of just how much he’d wanted the invitation.

Stiles walked with Derek until he turned over the dogs, then ran back to his dorm room, skipping dining hall food in favor of whatever Derek was cooking for supper. Stiles packed, thankful that he’d fit in a load of laundry the other night while he and Kira quizzed each other for their respective exams the next day from practice exams.

Stiles packed his laptop, charging cords for both laptop and cell phone, the book for his winter course, an emergency change of clothes, and the gifts he’d bought into his backpack, then packed several changes of clothes into his duffel bag. He wasn’t too worried about taking a lot of clothes since he would have access to the clothes he’d had to leave home, as well as a washing machine.

Stiles took one last look around the room before he left, grabbing his boarding pass off the desk and shoving it in to an outside pocket of the backpack. He pulled on his coat, hat and mittens, and hefted the bags. When he locked the door behind him, Stiles felt a little bit sad that he wouldn’t see the room again until the end of January.

Stiles had to admit that the campus was a little bit creepy as he walked to the parking lot where he kept the Jeep. He kept looking over his shoulder, sure he heard footsteps, but there was never anything, or anyone, there. Stiles drove slowly, cognizant of Derek’s warning that the little bit of snow they’d gotten could make the roads slippery towards evening once the temperatures started dropping even lower.

Derek was on the front lawn with Doofus when Stiles pulled into the driveway. Doofus was sitting, but Stiles could tell he was straining with excitement. Still, Doofus stayed on his butt, probably due to whatever Derek was saying to him that Stiles couldn’t hear at that distance. Stiles slid out of the Jeep and waved, and Doofus lifted his butt off the ground before resettling it.

The tone of Derek’s voice changed, and suddenly Doofus barreled across the lawn directly for Stiles. He braced himself for the impact as Doofus ran into his shins and then jumped up onto his legs. Derek commanded, “Down!” and Doofus was back on all fours, though he looked at Stiles with pleading eyes. Stiles got down on his knees in the wet grass and let Doofus lick his face.

Derek carried Stiles’ bags inside while Stiles and Doofus played. Stiles said, “I’m going to miss you most of all, Doofus.” It was only partly true, but Doofus didn’t call him on it.

Derek came back outside and they returned Doofus to the pen with his mother and siblings. Inside the house Stiles breathed in deeply. “Whatever you’re making smells really good.”

“You just want us for the food,” Laura said, giving Stiles a hug before he could get himself out of his winter clothes.

“That’s not _entirely_ true,” Stiles said, grinning.

“Uh huh,” Laura said. “Hurry up and get in here; Derek waited on the biscuits ‘til you got here.”

“It was only polite,” Derek said, giving Laura an elbow as he passed her, which only made Laura laugh and wink at Stiles behind Derek’s back.

Stiles had been starving when he’d woken up, but he’d forgotten about it when he ran into Derek. Smelling what turned out to be chicken and gravy simmering on the stove reminded Stiles just how hungry he was, but he didn’t mind sitting at the island with a glass of water and watching Derek clean up from the biscuits that he’d stirred up and formed, but not put in the oven until he’d carried Stiles’ bags into the house.

Supper was chicken and biscuits with cranberry sauce, and it was delicious. Stiles should’ve stopped at one biscuit, but his eyes and taste buds convinced him to have another. His stomach was not happy with him because the milk he drank made the two biscuits expand exponentially, it seemed.

Stiles helped clean up supper even though his stomach protested every move he made. He called his dad to remind him to pick him up at the airport tomorrow, and then they all sprawled across the furniture in the living room in a food coma. The tv was on, but Stiles wasn’t paying attention, and finally Derek told him he should go to bed.

Part of Stiles wanted to argue (because part of Stiles _always_ wanted to argue), but the tired, comfy part of him was feeling too agreeable. Despite the nap he’d taken that afternoon, Stiles _was_ still tired, and beside, he had to be up early for the drive to the airport the next morning.

Stiles was given the same guestroom he’d stayed in previously, and he didn’t even question the fact that his bags were already waiting for him there. He made sure his alarm was set and plugged in his phone to charge, and then took a shower because he knew he wouldn’t be up early enough to take one in the morning.

When Stiles’ alarm went off the next morning, he pulled the blankets up over his head in an attempt to ignore it, but the scent of bacon woke up his brain cells and Stiles remembered that he was flying home that day. Stiles sniffed the clothes he’d worn yesterday, determined that he hadn’t done enough to get them dirty, and pulled them back on.

“I can’t believe you made breakfast,” Stiles said when he appeared in the kitchen with his bags.

“It’s not much,” Derek said modestly, but he looked pleased when Stiles said, “Thank you.”

The drive to the airport was quiet, mostly because Stiles was still half asleep. Derek had refused to take Stiles’ Jeep, so they were in the SUV that advertised ‘Top Dog Animal Training and Rescue’ on the doors. Stiles had also had to hand over his key to the Jeep in case Derek needed to move it for any reason.

Derek got out of the SUV at the airport, but he looked uncomfortable, like he didn’t know whether he should walk Stiles inside. Stiles made the decision for him by saying, “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek said stiffly.

“And for letting me leave the Jeep with you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And for making me breakfast.”

The corners of Derek’s lips twitched. “You’re welcome, Stiles. For everything.”

“Okay, well.” Stiles went in for an awkward one-armed hug, and was pleasantly surprised when he felt Derek’s hand on his shoulder. Stiles stepped back finally, and Derek’s hand slipped off. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand before he could pull it back. “You guys be careful, okay?”

There hadn’t been another murder since Samuel, and the RAs were trying to convince everyone that it was probably a one-off, but Stiles knew better. Whoever had killed Samuel had known he was a supernatural creature, and he (or she) probably knew there were more where Samuel came from. Stiles was certain he would kill again.

“We will be,” Derek promised, and Stiles reluctantly let go of his hand.

“See you in six weeks,” Stiles said.

“I can’t wait,” Derek deadpanned, which made Stiles smile.

“Don’t miss me too much, sourwolf.”

“I won’t,” Derek said, but it sounded like a lie. “And don’t call me that.”

Stiles winked. “Sure thing, big guy.”

Stiles was pleased to leave Derek scowling after him. He’d think about the pink at the base of Derek’s throat later.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles hugged his dad long enough for his dad to be the one to break the hug and give Stiles a worried look. “Everything alright, kid?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I just really missed you.”

“I missed you, too, son. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They stopped for something to eat before heading back to Beacon Hills, and they talked about everything but school because Stiles was still feeling burnout from exams. While his dad was in the restroom Stiles texted Derek, _landed safely thx again 4 everything_

A few seconds later Stiles’ phone buzzed with a reply. _good_

Stiles laughed because he could picture Derek’s frown as he typed the single word response.

“What’s so funny?” his dad said.

Stiles opened his mouth to explain, but then wondered how he could explain Derek to someone who didn’t really know him. He shook his head, still smiling, and said, “Nothing. You ready to go now?”

They paid and left, and despite his best efforts Stiles fell asleep on the ride home. He woke as they pulled into the driveway and lasted long enough to carry his bags inside the house and watch about twenty minutes of Jeopardy before he turned in.

Scott woke him up early the next morning by jumping on the bed. Stiles wanted to be annoyed but he’d missed Scott too much. Scott made Stiles take a shower, then hugged Stiles to get his scent all over him. “You smell weird,” he said when Stiles finally pushed him off. Stiles figured he smelled like Kira and the other mysterious supernatural creatures at Cornell to Scott.

They got breakfast with Allison before she went off to do some more Christmas shopping, then came back to Stiles’ house for some ‘bro time’. Stiles’ dad worked Saturday since he’d taken off Friday to pick up Stiles, and he brought home pizza. Stiles and Scott had snacked on chips and soda while they played video games, but they hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast so they wolfed it down. Stiles made sure to say that out loud just so he could get a reaction from Scott.

Stiles slept in on Sunday and ate a poptart for breakfast. He kind of missed having someone to cook for him every day. Scott picked him up and they caught up on nothing while Stiles helped him clean cages at the Animal Clinic. He must’ve picked up something from Derek and Laura, because the dogs _loved_ him.

“When did you become the dog whisperer?” Scott said. Stiles shrugged.

That night Stiles and his dad had dinner at Melissa’s. He’d expected Scott and Allison to be there, but was surprised to see Chris standing beside Scott. Something inside Stiles flared to life, but he tamped it down and greeted Chris cordially. Scott gave Stiles an understanding look.

After dinner Stiles excused himself to use the restroom. Before he returned to the others, he texted Derek again. _miss me yet?_ His phone didn’t buzz with a response until he was back at the table with the others. Stiles glanced at the message – _who is this?_ – and laughed.

Scott said, “What’s so funny?”

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, then shook his head. How could he explain Derek’s dry sense of humor? “Nothing.” At Scott’s look, he shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

On Monday Stiles stopped in at the Sheriff Department to say hi to everyone, then took care of Melissa’s gift. That evening Lydia hosted a get-together at the lake house. She picked Stiles up and grilled him about Derek and Kira and Samuel under the guise of having him help her set up.

Their small group from high school, including Jackson to Stiles’ dismay, attended, as well as some of the people they’d met through Satomi’s pack. Liam showed up with Hayden, as expected, but Mason bringing Corey as his date was new. Erica and Boyd came together, and Scott and Allison brought Isaac. Brett came with his sister and Malia. Stiles tried to hide his surprise when Jordan Parrish showed up.

Most of these people still lived in Beacon Hills and saw each other more than once every four months, and Stiles suddenly felt like an outsider in a group he’d once been at the center of. Malia leaned against wall beside Stiles.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stiles said, trying to shake off his wistful ruminations.

“You look pensive,” Malia said.

Stiles gave her a look.

“Word of the day.”

Stiles grinned. “Good use of it.” He suddenly felt guilty for not keeping in touch with Malia. “Tell me how your first semester went.”

Malia shrugged. “It’s just community college.”

Stiles waited her out.

“It went fine. I might have met someone,” she blurted.

Stiles held up his fist and Malia bumped it with her own, and things were suddenly back to normal between them. When Malia wandered off, Erica appeared.

“Are you guys tag-teaming me?”

Erica’s response was to lean in and sniffed him.

“I know,” Stiles said, “Scott said I smell weird.”

“Just different,” Erica said enigmatically.

~*~

Stiles and his dad spent Christmas Eve together since his dad worked Christmas Day so others could have it off to spend with family. He made egg nog and let his dad have one cup. Stiles gave his dad the moccasins and he wore them while they watched ‘A Christmas Story’ because his dad said that Ralphie reminded him a lot of Stiles, then ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ because it had been his mom’s favorite.

(Stiles’ dad gave him an envelope with a lot of cash in it. He told Stiles to buy textbooks with it, but to save some to do something fun. Stiles blinked back tears and told his dad it was too much.) In between they ate pulled pork and cabbage salad and brownies (one, and only because it was Christmas) from Shapiro’s Delicatessen, the best deli in town.

Stiles slept in late the next day, then walked into town and picked up Chinese from their favorite take-out place. His dad looked surprised to see him when Stiles showed up at the Sheriff Department.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the lunch, but how did you get here?”

“I walked,” Stiles said.

“You walked?” his dad said. “Twice in one week?”

Stiles shrugged, though the disbelief was well-placed. “I’ve had to walk farther just to get to class.”

“If you want to hang out for a while I’ll drive you home,” his dad offered when Stiles was packing the empty cartons back into the bag.

“Nah, I’ll walk back,” Stiles said, ignoring the expression of disbelief on his dad’s face. “I still need to wrap presents for tonight.”

Stiles did need to wrap the presents, but there was something else he wanted to do. When he got home, Stiles made himself wrap the presents first so they were ready to go, then he made himself comfortable on his bed with a soda and bag of chips within easy reach and called Derek.

“What’s wrong?” Derek said instead of ‘hello’, his voice gruff and full of worry.

Stiles laughed. “Merry Christmas, sourwolf.”

There was a pause before Derek said, “Don’t call me that.”

“Sure thing, big guy,” Stiles said in what he’d decided was their ‘thing’. “How’s everything out in Ithaca?”

The conversation started out stilted, but Laura intruded, then Derek told a story about Doofus doing something that reminded him of Stiles and Stiles only realized they’d been on the phone for over an hour when he heard the door open and close downstairs. Stiles reluctantly ended the phone call, and then sat on his bed for a moment with the phone in his hand.

His dad knocked on the door then poked his head in. “Hey, I’m home. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I just called Derek and Laura to wish them a Merry Christmas.”

Stiles’ dad studied him. “Derek, huh? You miss them, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Stiles said, trying to decipher the look his dad was giving him. “I think he’s lonely, but he’s closed himself off so he doesn’t realize he’s lonely.”

His dad’s eyebrows went up. “Derek?”

“Yeah, Derek. Laura’s more . . . socialized,” Stiles said, then smiled. “Derek told me a story about Doofus.”

“Tell me while I’m washing up,” his dad said.

Stiles slid off the bed and followed his dad, leaned against the doorframe while his dad washed up at the sink to get the office stink off him, and related the story. Once his dad had changed out of his uniform they headed over to Melissa’s for dinner.

Once again Chris was there, but Stiles was more prepared this time.

“Sorry, dude,” Scott said, “but he’s going to be my father-in-law.”

“I get it,” Stiles said, and he did, but he didn’t have to like it.

Melissa made lasagna and garlic bread, and it was fantastic, as always. Stiles tried to ignore the fact that Chris moved around Melissa’s kitchen as if he was very familiar with it. After dinner Stiles handed out his presents. Allison and Scott loved their matching hats and wore them for most of the evening. Melissa got misty-eyed when she opened her gift; Stiles got a hug from her and a look from his dad that Stiles interpreted as ‘you did good, son’.

The gift was a framed photo of Melissa and Scott that Stiles had taken at the ‘end of summer’ cook out they’d had to send off Stiles, Lydia, and Jackson. He’d been snapping photos of everyone as if he was moving to the arctic and wouldn’t see his friends for years rather than months, and he’d managed to catch a lovely moment between Melissa and Scott. They’d been talking with their heads bent together, and then Scott had said something that made Melissa smile. Stiles had known from the moment he’d seen the photo that it would be Melissa’s gift, and he hadn’t even let Scott see it until now.

Melissa asked Stiles’ dad what he’d gotten and his dad raised both feet to show off the moccasins he’d brought to wear after removing his shoes. After presents Melissa brought out the dessert. Stiles’ dad had two (small) pieces of pie over Stiles’ objection.

Stiles and Scott did clean up. While they were alone in the kitchen, Stiles confided that he’d called Derek that afternoon. Scott gave him a look. “What?” Stiles said.

“You called them on Christmas?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

Stiles roughly scrubbed at the burnt sauce and cheese in the pan. “To wish them a Merry Christmas. Why are you making a big deal out of it?”

“ _Is_ it a big deal?” Scott said.

“No,” Stiles said. “We’re just friends.”

“Okay,” Scott said. “So tell me, how are Derek and Laura doing?”

Stiles had already told Scott about JC, but he was reminded that he’d taken photos before leaving and he made Scott look at all of them, including the one Derek had taken of Stiles and Doofus.

“Do you think they’ll ever come back to Beacon Hills?” Scott said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Stiles said. There was too much baggage here, and Derek and Laura seemed happy where they were. “What?” he said when Scott’s face did that thing it did when he was thinking something but didn’t know if he should say it out loud.

“You’re coming back, right?”

“Of course!” Stiles said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Scott’s head went up like a dog on the scent, and he rushed to the doorway. He shook his head; there was no one in the hallway. Stiles’ blood ran cold. Someone had been listening to them, and there was only one person Stiles could think of who would want to keep that fact hidden.

Stiles and his dad left early because they both had to work the next morning. The Sheriff Department was short-staffed due to the holidays, and so Stiles answered phones and did filing, just like he’d done during summer vacation and winter break the past few years.

Lydia took Stiles out to lunch and Stiles gave her the necklace he’d bought her. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek that would’ve once made him swoon. Lydia gave Stiles a pair of open-dated plane tickets so he could come visit her. At the end of the meal Stiles gave Lydia a long hug goodbye because she and her mom were leaving for a few days of skiing in Vail before Lydia returned to Cambridge for their winter session, which she was doing on-campus, and this was the last he would see of her outside of Skype until he made use of the tickets.

Stiles’ dad had to work an extra half-shift because of a sick baby, so Stiles picked up dinner for them both – salads with grilled chicken because they’d both eaten pretty heavily over the holiday – and brought it to the station. When he left his dad, Stiles headed out to the Argent place. Chris didn’t look surprised to see Stiles when he opened the door.

“Stiles,” Chris said, stepping back to allow Stiles to enter the house. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Stiles stepped inside and waited for Chris to close the door before speaking. “I know you overheard my conversation with Scott last night, and that you’ve probably put two and two together.” When Chris didn’t respond to confirm or deny, Stiles went on. “Stay away from Derek and Laura.”

“If they’re not doing anything wrong . . .”

“They’re not.”

“. . . then I wouldn’t have any reason to pay them a visit. Besides, I’m sure the hunters in that territory don’t need my help.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t let that stop you,” Stiles said. “You seem like a man who doesn’t like to leave a job unfinished.”

Chris looked confused, which pissed Stiles off more than worrying about Derek and Laura since last night had already made him.

“Leaving some of them alive probably means you don’t get to put that notch on your belt.”

“What are you talking about?”

Stiles felt his blood pressure rise. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“Stiles, I don’t.”

“The Hale fire!” Stiles spat.

“We had nothing to do with that.”

Stiles laughed. “Are you kidding me right now?” Stiles paused in his tirade and studied Chris. “Wait, do you really not know?”

“Know what?” Chris said, exasperated.

“That your sister seduced a 16-year old boy and then burnt most of his family alive.”

“No.” Chris shook his head. “That’s not possible. Kate wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t she? Why do you think Peter killed her?”

“Because Peter was an out of control monster!”

“Maybe six years in a coma after being _burnt to a crisp_ in a fire will do that to a werewolf,” Stiles suggested.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chris said, but he sounded desperate, and not nearly as certain.

“I have evidence,” Stiles said. He almost felt bad for Chris when he saw the shell-shocked look on his face after hearing some hard truths about his family, except his sister had killed most of Derek’s family, so not really.

“If you can prove it, why haven’t you gone to your father?” Chris sounded relieved, but it was short-lived.

“And tell him about my theory that Kate burned the Hales alive because they were werewolves? Besides, Kate’s already dead. Peter got his revenge before he died. Unless she wasn’t acting alone.” Now Stiles gave Chris a look.

“I don’t buy it,” Chris said.

Stiles’ smile wasn’t nice. “Yeah you do. And so will anyone who’s met Kate, or your gross old dad.”

“I think you should leave,” Chris said.

Stiles let himself be herded back to the door. “I meant what I said,” Stiles said before he left, “leave Derek and Laura alone.”

Stiles had called Derek when he’d gotten home last night to warn them that Chris Argent might’ve found out where they were living and to be careful. Now he texted Derek, _I warned chris argent 2 leave u alone_

Derek’s reply came moments later. _appreciate it_ Stiles could hear the dry tone of Derek’s voice. His phone vibrated with another text message almost immediately. _I told you to stay away from the Argents_

_when have I ever listened to u?_

Stiles kept busy with working at the Sheriff Department, making up for lost time with Scott, keeping in touch with Derek via text and the occasional phone call, Skyping Lydia and Kira, and beginning the reading for his three-week winter course.

Stiles had wanted to ask Professor Hughes if he could do an independent study with Deaton, but he knew that Hughes would think it was too early for him to attempt an advanced course of study, even though Stiles had been learning from both Deaton and Satomi for the past few years. Instead he’d chosen something fun, an American Studies course called ‘Popular Culture in the United States, 1950 to 2000,’ which was right up his alley.

Stiles was waiting at The Grind for Scott to get off work so they could go to a movie while Allison, Malia and Hayden had a girls’ night. He was taking a practice quiz when Chris sat down across from him. Stiles was surprised to see him – he hadn’t seen Chris since the day after Christmas – and especially surprised to see how haggard he looked.

“What’s your evidence?” Chris said.

Stiles slowly pushed his laptop to the side. “You really want to know?”

“No. But I need to.”

Stiles nodded, then summarized the police and fire reports he’d read, as well as the connections between the people Peter had killed.

Chris was silent for a few minutes after Stiles stopped speaking. “That’s all?”

Stiles huffed a humorless laugh. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t have killed a werewolf on less?”

“Say I believe you . . .”

“You believe me,” Stiles said, “or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Why didn’t Derek and Laura go to the authorities?”

Stiles had to force himself to not explode at Chris, whose sister was responsible for the death of most of the Hale family, blaming Derek and Laura. “What would you have done if you were sixteen and your entire family had just been killed by hunters and you blamed yourself for letting her get close enough to do it? Especially when they apparently had an insurance investigator in their pocket? Who would you trust?”

Stiles waited a moment for that to sink in. “I get it,” he said. “You don’t want to believe that your sister was capable of this. But you know she was.”

“What do you want from me?” Chris said.

“The same thing I’ve always wanted, the same thing Derek and Laura want: leave them alone.” Stiles had a thought. “But if you’re feeling generous, you could answer a question for me. It has nothing to do with the Hales.”

Chris, who’d started to get up sat back down. “What is it?”

“Derek said that hunters have a code . . .”

“We hunt those who hunt us,” Chris said.

“Yeah, that. Does everyone follow it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was Kate an aberration? Do most hunters follow the code?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “As far as I know. Then again, I thought my family was following the code. Why do you ask?”

Stiles hesitated, then told Chris about Samuel’s murder. “He was a kid,” Stiles said. “A Capricornus. A sea-goat; a creature that’s half-goat, half-fish,” he explained as if he hadn’t needed Kira to explain it to him. “Samuel had never hurt anyone.”

“What makes you think it was hunters?”

“He was shot with an arrow and cut in half. I’m not sure . . .” Stiles had to swallow hard. “I think he might’ve still been alive when they cut him in half.” There’d been a lot of blood at the scene and Stiles had done enough reading on forensics to know what that meant.

Chris shook his head. “Hunters wouldn’t go after a kid. Not if he hadn’t done anything.”

Stiles snorted. “Because you were all warm and fuzzy when Scott got bit.”

Chris’ jaw worked, but all he said was, “I’ll look into it.”

“Without putting hunters on Derek and Laura’s trail,” Stiles said.

Chris paused in rising. “I’ll be subtle.”

Stiles bit back the first words that sprang to his tongue, and instead said, “Thank you.”

Chris looked surprised. He nodded and left.

Stiles was still mulling over what he was going to tell Derek when Scott arrived.

~*~

“What the hell, Stiles!” Derek exploded.

“We needed information,” Stiles said.

“No, what we need is for you to stay out of this.”

“That’s not going to happen, Derek, because I live there, too, at least for the next four years, and if my friends are in danger I’m going to do whatever I can to help them!” Stiles’ voice got loud and he looked around the diner parking lot where he’d stopped to make the call, wanting to make sure no one was paying attention to his conversation.

Stiles heard Derek and Laura speaking, arguing, on the other end of the line, but he couldn’t make out the words. It was Laura who came on the line and spoke with him.

“Do you really think we can trust Chris Argent?”

“He seemed pretty upset when I told him what Kate had done,” Stiles said.

“He didn’t know?”

“He didn’t appear to.”

“Hmm.”

“Look,” Stiles said. “I know Derek has . . . issues. I didn’t mean to upset him, I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” Laura said, which wasn’t much comfort.

“How long’s he gonna be mad at me?”

“He’s not mad, Stiles, he’s worried,” Laura said, as if Stiles was an idiot.

“About hunters.”

“About you.”

“Why would he be worried about me?” Stiles said.

Laura sighed and said something about idiots that Stiles couldn’t make out. “Derek’s gone out for a run. Text him later when he’s had time to cool off.”

Stiles agreed to do that, then grabbed the take-out bag he’d used as an excuse to make the call at lunch time. It had been too late in Ithaca last night when he and Scott got back from the movies, and Stiles had also wanted to put off the conversation.

“What’s wrong?” his dad said when he saw Stiles’ face.

“Nothing,” Stiles said, then admitted, “Derek’s mad at me.”

“That sucks,” his dad said without even asking why, “but he’ll get over it.”

“How do you know?”

His dad gave Stiles a look, then said, “Because from what I’ve heard, he cares about you, son.”

Stiles wished he could be as confident as Laura and his dad.

~*~

Stiles sniffed the tea and tried very hard not to wrinkle his nose. He’d had it before and it didn’t taste quite as bad as it smelled (at least, not to his human taste buds), but the smell was quite off-putting.

“Derek told me that you used to take this . . . tea to his mom.” Stiles had to clear his throat to pretend he hadn’t been about to say ‘stinky’.

Satomi smiled. “Yes. Talia loved it.”

“Why?” Stiles said.

Satomi just smiled.

“You knew Derek and Laura were in Ithaca.”

Satomi nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What would you have done if I’d told you?” Satomi said.

“I would’ve researched the Hales,” Stiles said honestly because it never did any good to try and prevaricate with Satomi.

“And?”

“I would’ve thought I knew everything there was to know about Derek and Laura based on what I’d read about them,” Stiles said defeatedly. Knowing your own short-comings was something Satomi was big on.

“This way you didn’t have any preconceptions,” Satomi agreed.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, recalling how he’d slowly gotten to know Derek, and how he’d discovered that he was a soft marshmallow underneath his gruff exterior. He might not have gotten to know that about Derek if he’d gone in thinking he already knew what kind of person he was.

“Tell me how Derek and Laura are doing,” Satomi said.

Stiles told her about the Hale’s business, and how he got to play with Doofus and that he’d seen the birth of a balpaca (Satomi didn’t appreciate the term, either). Satomi didn’t seem surprised to learn that the Hales had made their home on the edge of a state preserve, and that they rescued animals.

“What are you going to do after college, Stiles?” Satomi said abruptly.

“I’m coming home to Beacon Hills,” Stiles said without even having to think about it.

Satomi nodded. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Stiles said. “Beacon Hills is my home.”

“Beacon Hills used to be Derek’s and Laura’s home,” Satomi said. “Do you think they’ve made a home for themselves in Ithaca?”

“Yes,” Stiles said. “But my dad’s here, Scott, you and Deaton.”

“All true,” Satomi said with a serene smile. “Just keep an open mind.”

Satomi turned the conversation to Stiles’ classes and he ended up telling her about Kira and Samuel’s murder, even though he had a feeling she already knew about it. Satomi made Stiles promise to be careful, and he did so, even knowing that such a promise could not be easily kept.

Satomi walked Stiles to the door of her home and took his hand. She said some words that Stiles couldn’t understand, but he knew their purpose: protection.

“Thank you,” Stiles said.

Satomi nodded, and accepted a hug from Stiles. Before he left, she enigmatically said, “Sometimes home isn’t a place, it’s a person.”

“Okay,” Stiles said.

~*~

The remainder of winter break passed quickly and suddenly Stiles was in a car with his dad and Scott on their way to the airport. Saying goodbye was hard, and only the fact that he was going to miss his flight if he didn’t get going made him release Scott from his hug.

Stiles found his seat and stowed his bags, then leaned over his row-mate and waved out the tiny window, though he doubted his dad, or even Scott with his enhanced werewolf-y vision, saw him. Stiles had texted Derek when he’d arrived to let him know that they were at the airport; now he checked his phone for a reply (there wasn’t one), then switched it to airplane mode and slipped it back into his pocket.

Once Stiles let himself think about Derek he couldn’t stop. In just hours (seven hours and two minutes, if Delta could be believed), Stiles was going to see Derek again. Stiles was nervous. He and Derek had texted after their argument, and they’d even spoken on the phone, but Derek had been more reserved than usual, which was saying something.

After take-off Stiles logged into the in-flight wifi and plugged his phone into an outlet in the back of the seat in front of him so he could watch some movies during the flight. Stiles had a one hour layover in Detroit and had to change flights. He was glad he’d only brought two bags with him. Stiles took advantage of the layover to use the restroom and get something to eat at the Illy Coffee & Fountain Bar, which had gotten some good reviews on Yelp.

It was now 2:30pm Detroit time, but Stiles’ body insisted it was still only 11:30am. Although he’d only been in the air for four hours, it had been over six since his dad went through the McDonald’s drive-thru on their way to the airport. Once he was seated at one of the high tables with his coffee, sandwich, and chocolate chip cannoli, both carry-on bags at his feet, Stiles switched his phone off of airplane mode and checked his texts.

Derek had gotten back to him with a brief _ok_ that was followed a few minutes later by _have a safe flight_. Stiles smiled and wondered how much thought Derek had put into typing that.

_in detroit_ Stiles typed back. _see you soon_ Stiles’ thumb hesitated over the send button before he sent the last text. He put his phone away and ate while he people-watched. Stiles made it to the terminal with twenty minutes left in his layover and was relieved to see that there were no delays.

When they announced that the flight could board, Stiles shot a quick text to Derek telling him so while he waited in line. The plane didn’t have wifi or power ports, so Stiles turned off his phone and left it in his pocket. Tired from leaving the house so early, and full from lunch, Stiles ended up sleeping most of the hour and a half flight to Ithaca.

As soon as he was on the ground, Stiles checked his phone. There was a message from Derek. Stiles smiled and hurried to the 2nd Landing Café where Derek was waiting for him. Stiles was so happy to see Derek that he threw his arms around him in an awkward hug. Stiles took a sip of Derek’s coffee, then grimaced because it was black. He made a pit stop in the restroom while Derek watched his bags, and then they headed out to the parking area.

Stiles was surprised to see his Jeep sitting in the spot Derek directed them to. Stiles ran the distance to the Jeep and bent over the hood with his arms spread. “I’ve missed you,” Stiles cooed.

Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles was too happy to call him on it. “I can’t believe you drove my Jeep! I thought it was a death trap.”

“It was,” Derek said, then took Stiles’ bags and handed him the keys.

Grinning, Stiles slid behind the wheel and slipped the key into the ignition. The engine purred to life. Stiles’ eyes went wide. “What . . . ?”

Stiles looked at Derek as he got into the passenger seat after depositing Stiles’ bags in the back seat. He managed to look both pleased and uncomfortable. “Did you fix my car?”

Derek shrugged. “I had time.”

“You had time,” Stiles repeated.

“Did you forget how to drive while you were gone?” Derek said.

“Fuck you,” Stiles said. “Also, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” Derek said. At Stiles’ look, Derek said, “This thing was a death trap.”

“It was fine,” Stiles said, backing out of the parking spot.

“It was so far from fine it wasn’t even in the same zip code as fine,” Derek shot back.

Stiles grinned.

“What?”

“You missed me.”

“I didn’t miss you,” Derek said.

“I missed you, too,” Stiles said.

They didn’t speak during the ride to the Hale place. Stiles didn’t take it personally. Though he normally liked to fill a silence, he’d gotten used to the hush that surrounded Derek, as if he could silence the turmoil he carried inside by staying quiet. Stiles was happy to pull into the long driveway that led to Derek and Laura’s home.

He was looking forward to seeing Laura again and playing with Doofus when he got out of the Jeep, and so at first he didn’t see the large white bird making for him at a very quick pace. When Stiles did notice, he squawked and clambered up onto the hood of the Jeep.

“What the hell is that?” Stiles yelled to be heard over the bird loudly scolding him.

“That’s Gus,” Derek said. “I told you we got a rescue goose.”

“You didn’t tell me he was so angry!” Stiles paused, then looked at Derek. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” Derek said. “Angry bird?”

Stiles heaved a sigh. “I can’t believe you said it.”

“Come on, help me put him away.”

“Help you what?” Stiles said, not at all embarrassed that his voice went up high on the last word.

Derek ignored him. Naturally. “Gus,” Derek said, and the goose actually stopped screeching at Stiles and turned his head towards Derek. “Stop. This is Stiles. No biting Stiles.” Derek considered. “Unless I give you permission.”

“Hey,” Stiles said weakly as the goose obediently followed Derek to the barn. Stiles slid off the hood and followed at what he hoped was a safe distance. He wasn’t entirely sure that the goose wasn’t just lulling him into a false sense of security.

Derek easily got the goose penned back up, to Stiles’ surprise. “Did he imprint on you?”

Derek gave Stiles an unimpressed look. “Fully grown geese don’t imprint.”

“Tell that to Gus,” Stiles said, turning towards the pen that housed the dogs. Stiles froze, his throat closing up, when he noticed that it was empty. He’d kind of wondered why Doofus hadn’t raised a racket when he saw Stiles. “Where are the puppies?” he said when he could form words.

“Adopted,” Derek said. “I told you . . .”

“I know,” Stiles said. “I just . . . Even the mother?”

“Yes. Come on, Laura’s probably chomping at the bit to see you,” Derek said, turning away as if Stiles hadn’t just had his heart ripped out.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. He stumbled after Derek, so lost in his grief that it took him a while to realize that he heard barking. When the sound finally penetrated, he raised his head to see Doofus standing on the porch barking his head off, Laura’s hand curled around the collar he wore. As soon as Stiles spotted them, Laura released Doofus. He leapt off the porch and shot across the yard. Stiles braced himself, but he was still tumbled to the ground. He didn’t care that he was getting damp, or that there were tears on his cheeks.

“You . . . asshole,” Stiles said without raising his voice, knowing Derek could hear him. He petted Doofus and got his face licked in return. “You told me he’d been adopted.”

“He has been,” Derek said. He was standing closer than Stiles thought, and he had both of Stiles’ bags in his hands.

“What are you doing?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Did you want to go back to the dorm tonight?”

Stiles glanced at Doofus, who was still wiggling in excitement. The dorms were open because new students had arrived on Friday, but Derek was right, he didn’t want to go back there yet. He buried his face in Doofus’ fur and shook his head. When Stiles raised his head, he and Doofus were alone on the lawn.

Stiles stood and headed towards the house. “Come, Doofus.” Doofus ran ahead, then turned and ran back to make sure Stiles was coming, then ran on ahead again.

Laura was waiting for him in the kitchen when Stiles and Doofus entered the house. She hooked an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and pulled him into a hug. Stiles sagged against her and returned the hug. “You guys adopted Doofus?”

“No,” Laura said briskly. “We’re just boarding him for the guy who adopted him.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. It wasn’t ideal, but at least he’d still get to see Doofus when he came out to visit. At least until the new owner took him away.

“Come sit down,” Laura said. “I need you to sign some papers.”

Stiles sat at the table and put his arm around Doofus, who put his front paws on Stiles’ leg. It made Stiles feel good that Doofus was just as happy to see him as he was to see the stupid dog. Stiles rubbed his face in Doofus’ fur as an apology for the thought. “You’re not stupid.”

Stiles’ attention was diverted when Laura placed a pile of papers in front of him. “What’s this for?”

“These are our adoption forms,” Laura said.

“Adoption forms?” Stiles said.

“Yes.”

“I . . . don’t understand.” Stiles pulled the pile closer and read the top sheet. He could barely make out the words, but he saw his name, and Doofus’ name. “Wait . . .”

“Stiles,” Laura said gently, “he’s been your dog since the day you met him. These forms are a technicality for our records.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, but he still didn’t move.

“What she means is,” Derek said, appearing in the doorway, “sign the damned papers.”

“I hate you,” Stiles said, but he was pretty sure Derek knew he was lying. “I don’t have any money, or a place to keep him,” Stiles said as he signed the papers where Laura told him to.

“Which is why we’re boarding him for you,” Laura said. “Also, he’s a gift.”

“You _are_ a gift, aren’t you?” Stiles said to Doofus, who licked his face in reply.

~*~

Though Stiles was eager to see Kira again, he only reluctantly left the Hales and Doofus to drive to Cornell the next day and move back into his dorm room. Unpacking was done quickly, and then he had the rest of the afternoon ahead of him until Kira arrived. To kill some time, Stiles walked across campus to the book store to get his textbooks. The six degree high made him glad for the heavy coat and hat.

He was sprawled out in the beanbag chair getting a head start on the reading for his first class, Magic in Arthurian Legends, when Kira pushed wide the door he’d left propped open for her and burst into his room full of energy and excitement. He barely had time to put the book aside before Kira jumped on him to give him a hug. “I missed you. Are you hungry? My parents want to take us out to dinner.”

Stiles, used to the way his own brain hopped from topic to topic, was not lost by the segue. “I missed you, too, and yes, I’m starving.” The dining halls were open, but Stiles was not one to pass up free food if it was offered to him.

Kira’s parents wanted to see Stiles mainly to exhort him to take care. There hadn’t been another murder since Samuel, but that could have been because there weren’t as many students on campus for the winter session. Stiles had every intention of being careful. He wasn’t supernatural, but Kira was and he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

After a moment of hesitation, Stiles told them what he’d found out from Chris Argent; that there weren’t any hunters operating in the area. At least none that he knew about. He’d hoped it would put Noshiko at ease, but if anything it made her more wary. If it was a rogue hunter, then there was no telling who he (or she, Stiles thought) would come after.

Classes started on Wednesday, the only day during the week when Stiles didn’t have a nine o’clock scheduled. He tried to sleep in, but it was impossible. He’d gotten used to getting up during the fall semester, and even over break when he was working at the Sheriff Department. Stiles showered and had a leisurely breakfast at the dining hall while he did some more reading for his Medieval Studies course.

Stiles only had two classes today, and Botany wasn’t until 2:30, so he had a lot of study breaks. After his first class, Stiles opened up his Botany text. He met Kira for lunch when her class got out at noon, then did some more Botany reading until that class started. After Botany Stiles switched to Latin, and then Mythology for tomorrow.

Stiles had his first PE course on Thursday. He’d signed up for a self-defense class. He knew how to swing a bat and run towards trouble, but he’d never had any formal training, and with the murder on campus, and none of his usual back-up available, Stiles thought it would be a good idea. After class, Stiles went down to the batting cages. There were more students down there than previously now that baseball season was right around the corner, but none of them were Derek.

Stiles had a short break between PE and work in the dining hall, so he didn’t bother to shower; he figured he’d get stinkier working with the dishwasher than he had during PE.

On Friday (and again on Monday), Stiles had back-to-back classes in the morning, so he had to adjust his studying for that, but even so it was easy to slip back into the rhythm of university. That afternoon Stiles had a block of free time between Botany and meeting Kira for dinner, so he drove out to the Hale place to visit with Doofus. Derek wasn’t there, and Stiles told himself that he wasn’t disappointed. Doofus was happy enough to see Stiles to make him forget about it, in any case.

Stiles went out on Saturday and Sunday, as well, and sometimes Kira went with him. Laura was usually there if she didn’t have a private lesson because Derek had a class and sometimes he needed Laura’s back-up. Not because of the dogs, but because of their owners. Stiles wasn’t jealous.

“I used to have panic attacks,” Stiles told Derek one day, apropos of nothing.

Derek gave Stiles a look.

“I’m just saying, I could say that Doofus is my therapy dog.”

“They’re not going to let you keep him in the dorms,” Derek said dryly. “Besides, he wouldn’t be happy locked up there.”

“I know. I just feel bad that I can’t see him more often.”

“You see him as often as you can, and that’s the important thing. He’s got company here, so even though he misses you, he doesn’t get lonely.”

“You think he misses me?” Stiles said as he watched Doofus try to ‘kill’ an old sock that he’d put a water bottle inside of. The crinkle of the bottle was driving the dog nuts. It was awesome.

Derek had a free period at eleven, so he sometimes joined Stiles for study period or lunch, and could sometimes be convinced to stick around on the days when Stiles had lunch with Kira. Derek didn’t talk too much more than he had when Stiles first met him, but he seemed more relaxed. Stiles tried to not take too much credit for that.

Baseball practice started; because it was February it was mostly indoor conditioning – running laps and working in the batting cages and doing indoor drills. Stiles found himself dropping by once in a while to watch. He didn’t stay long because it was impossible to appear casual, at least not until the practices moved outside even though it was still freezing. Stiles thought it was unfair that the college baseball season was during the still cold-as-a-witche’s-tit March and April.

On the third Saturday back, Ithaca held their annual Chili Cook-Off. Stiles, Kira, and a bunch of friends they’d made at Dickson walked downtown together to get their faces painted, roller skate (with varying degrees of success), get a much needed (free) shoulder massage, and eat way too much chili.

The next week went by quickly and Winter Break was upon them. Stiles had spoken to Lydia and he used the tickets she’d bought him to visit her in Cambridge for the long weekend. Derek drove Stiles to the airport. It was harder to say goodbye than Stiles had thought it would be.

“Hug Doofus for me,” Stiles said.

“I will.”

“He needs a lot of hugs.”

Derek gave Stiles a look. “I’ll hug him.”

“A lot?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “A lot.”

“Okay, good.” Stiles hugged Derek before either of them could second guess it. “I’ll miss you, too, big guy.”

Stiles walked towards the security area without looking back, afraid he might give too much away. Too much of what, he wasn’t entirely sure. The flight took off only a few minutes late, and four hours later Stiles was in Boston. Well, in the Boston airport. He found Peet’s, where he and Lydia had agreed to meet, and ordered a Mocha Javiva and a lemon poppyseed muffin that looked good no matter how long it had been sitting there.

Stiles killed time by texting everyone he knew while he waited for Lydia, who had a evening seminar that got out at nine. Stiles had lost track of time when Lydia arrived, so it surprised him when she called out his name. They hugged, and then she asked if he’d eaten.

Stiles guiltily wiped at his shirt in case there were crumbs. “No. Why?”

“Because we’re going our for dinner. Grab your bags.”

Lydia chose Tex-Mex and they left Stiles’ bags in the car while they ate at Border Café. They offered vegetarian options that Lydia took advantage of, but Stiles went for the enchiladas with pulled beef. It was after eleven before Stiles got his first look at Lydia’s dorm room that wasn’t via Skype. It was unfairly larger than his own room because Lydia had somehow managed to score a double-as-a-single, but that meant Stiles didn’t have to sleep on an air mattress so he couldn’t complain too much.

They fell asleep late and got up early (Stiles wondered if Lydia had been taking lessons from Kira). After breakfast they spent the remainder of the morning in the library. They broke for lunch at Cheers on Beacon Hill (Stiles bought a t-shirt) and then Lydia dragged him all around Boston. They went someplace nice for dinner and then to a club where Stiles got felt up and kissed. He reluctantly left it at that because he wasn’t going to skip out on Lydia. Also, the last guy had reminded Stiles of Derek (without the stubble and grumpy face), and once he’d thought that he couldn’t bring himself to kiss the guy again. When Stiles complained about it to Lydia, she just rolled her eyes and refused to explain herself.

Sunday was a duplicate of Saturday, minus the getting felt up and kissed, though they did meet up with some friends of Lydia’s to play Cards Against Humanity which made up for it. Stiles thought that said something very sad about his life.

Stiles flew out of Boston at one pm on Monday. Lydia drove him to the airport during a break between her classes and gave him a long hug before they had to separate. Stiles got lunch and texted Derek to ask about Doofus. He’d sent the message _whats 4 supper_ before he had a chance to censor himself, then sent, _not that im inviting myself_ , but Derek merely replied _pineapple chicken w rice_

When Stiles texted Derek to let him know he’d landed, Derek told Stiles to meet him in the parking lot. Stiles understood why when he got outside and saw Derek with a leashed Doofus waiting for him. Doofus sat on the ground beside Derek, but his whole body was vibrating as if he couldn’t wait to greet Stiles properly.

Stiles dropped his bag and went to his knees to pet Doofus, who licked Stiles’ face and leaned into him and got one paw up on Stiles’ shoulder in a hug. Derek grabbed the shoulder strap of Stiles’ backpack to keep him from toppling over backwards with the addition of Doofus’ weight against him.

When Stiles stood, it felt natural to lean in and give Derek a hug. Derek didn’t hug back, not exactly, but he didn’t take his hand off Stiles’ shoulder. The ride back to the Hale place consisted of Stiles telling Derek all about his visit with Lydia, and Derek commanding Doofus, who was determined to stuff himself onto Stiles’ lap, to remain in the backseat.

Laura was waiting for them on the porch when they returned, a basket of kittens beside her. The mother had been a feral cat who’d gotten sick. She’d shown up on Saturday to get help for her litter. They’d taken her to the vet, but it was possible she wouldn’t make it. Stiles cooed over the kittens, who were so young their eyes had barely opened.

Doofus plopped down beside the basket. Stiles was afraid he’d bark and scare them, or decide they would make a fine chew toy, but when one of the kittens opened its mouth in a silent cry, Doofus licked it. “Oh my god,” Stiles said. “You’re a foster dad, Doofus!”

Stiles was distracted by the kittens and so he didn’t say anything when Derek carried his bags inside the house instead of putting them in the Jeep. Stiles helped Laura feed the kittens while Derek put supper in the oven, then sat down to lend a hand. If Stiles thought that watching Derek train a puppy was the most adorable thing ever, he was blown away by the way Derek gently held a kitten in the palm of his hand.

After dinner clean up, Stiles reluctantly said that he should be leaving.

“You should spend the night here,” Laura said, in contrast to Derek’s growled, “No.”

“Um, okay. What’s going on?”

Both Laura and Derek hesitated, but finally Laura said, “There’s been another murder.”

“What? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Stiles exploded.

“You couldn’t do anything from Cambridge, and it would’ve just worried you,” Laura said.

“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” Stiles said.

Derek growled and slapped his hand against the doorframe. He turned and left the house in a huff, leaving dimples in the wood.

“He’s just worried about you,” Laura said. “Or is that something else we don’t get to do?”

“I didn’t mean . . .” Stiles sighed. “Who was it?”

“A girl named Sarah Mueller. A grad student, so you probably didn’t know her.”

“Same?” Stiles said.

“Yes. Arrow tipped with wolfsbane and cut in half.”

They’d only found out about the wolfsbane after they’d done a blood test on Samuel.

“Was she a werewolf?”

Laura shook her head. “No. Mermaid.”

“Then why the wolfsbane?”

“No idea. Maybe it’s symbolic?”

“Maybe,” Stiles said, frowning.

“What is it?”

“Two water creatures,” Stiles said.

“Do you think it means something?”

“Their other form wouldn’t be too helpful to them on land,” Stiles mused.

“Maybe the killer isn’t strong or confident in his abilities,” Derek said. “He chooses victims who can’t use their supernatural abilities against him, disables from a distance, then kills.”

Stiles felt himself relax at the sound of Derek’s voice, despite the topic under discussion. “On the other hand,” he said, “whoever it is manages to hide a bow and arrow _and_ a sword.”

“A collapsible bow,” Laura said.

“Like Hawkeye,” Stiles said. “What about a blade hidden inside something else, like a cane . . .”

“Or a walking stick,” Derek said.

“A retractable blade,” Stiles said with reluctant admiration. “Smart.”

“I’m going to call Malcolm,” Laura said. “Fill him in on our suspicions.”

Stiles fidgeted when he was left in the kitchen alone with Derek (and Doofus, but he didn’t count). “Sorry about before,” he said. “Exploding like that. It’s just . . . I worry about you guys, too.”

Derek gritted his teeth and offered what might’ve been a nod of acknowledgment, then held out his hand. Stiles took the item from Derek and raised his eyebrows.

“Are you trying to buy my forgiveness with a movie, Derek?”

Derek gave Stiles a look.

Stiles glanced at the DVD cover – the most recent Batman – then swatted Derek’s arm with the case. “You know me so well. Are you going to make popcorn?”

“You literally just ate,” Derek said.

“You can’t watch a movie without popcorn, Derek,” Stiles said.

Derek made popcorn and Laura joined them to watch the movie when she was done with her phone call. No more was said about Stiles returning to the dorms that night.

~*~

There was a renewed tension on the campus due to the second murder, but the students staying in Dickson were especially worried because they understood what the use of an arrow tipped with wolfsbane and being cut in half meant: the killer was singling out supernatural students. Worry made the weeks drag.

When Kira’s parents dropped her off, they implored her to be careful, and to not go anywhere alone. When they’d gotten Kira’s promise, Noshiko turned to Stiles. “The same goes for you, Stiles.”

“I’m nothing special,” Stiles said for the umpteenth time.

Noshiko gave Stiles a strange look and told him to, “Nevertheless, use caution.”

The next evening Stiles reluctantly called Chris to tell him about the second murder. Chris was angry that someone might be betraying the code, but he didn’t sound all that upset that a mermaid had been killed. Stiles bit his tongue and accepted Chris’ offer to look into the situation within the hunter community.

Stiles tried to read that evening, but found his mind drifting to the murders. When Derek met him and Kira for lunch on Thursday, Stiles told them about the phone call and what he’d concluded. “If there are no active hunters in the area, and the killer somehow knows who the supernatural students are, that means . . .”

“He’s on campus,” Kira said. “He might be a professor, the janitor, or another student.”

Or she, Stiles thought, but only said, “Yes.”

“It’s important that you don’t go anywhere alone,” Derek said.

That evening Derek was waiting when Stiles got out of work at the dining hall. “Jesus christ!” Stiles swore, hand going to his chest where his heart was trying to beat its way out. “Are you trying to scare me to death?” he said when Derek stepped out of the shadows.

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek said, “that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

Derek walked Stiles back to his dorm in silence and then handed Stiles a white paper bag. Derek waited pointedly for Stiles to enter the dorm before leaving.

“You shouldn’t be alone either,” Stiles said.

“I’ll be fine,” Derek said. “Laura’s here,” he added before Stiles could argue.

“Okay, fine, but . . .”

“Stiles, get inside,” Derek said.

Stiles complained about Derek’s overbearing manner all the way to his room and forgot about the bag until he needed to switch hands to pull out his keys. Stiles opened the bag and peered inside once the door was closed behind him. The bag held a pint of ice cream from the Dairy Bar and two plastic spoons.

Stiles shook his head. Derek was so difficult to understand sometimes. He took a shower to wash off the stink of PE and dishwashing and then sat at his desk with his Latin text and the pint of ice cream.

Derek was waiting for Stiles outside his Medieval Studies classroom the next morning. “I think you’re carrying this a little bit too far,” he said.

Derek’s response was to start walking. Stiles fell into step with him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Stiles said.

“Did it hurt?”

“Did wha–? Wow. Was that a joke? It was, wasn’t it? I approve, even if it was at my expense. And no, it didn’t hurt. You know how we were talking about the whole, um, on campus thing?” Stiles said, hoping Derek understood his shorthand so he didn’t have to spell it out.

Derek glanced at Stiles. “Yes.”

“We should check out the classes and organizations that Samuel and Sarah were in. Whoever, you know, had to have been close enough to determine who they were. I’ve got a friend, Danny, he’s really good with computers. I thought we could ask him to help us hack the college computers and get their class schedules and stuff.”

“No.”

“What?” Stiles flailed. “Just like that, no?”

“Yes, just like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t need to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Laura took our suspicions to Professor Hughes; he’s going to get us the information we need.”

“Okay, good,” Stiles said, feeling a little bit of a let down. “Hacking the computers would’ve been way more fun.”

By now they were sitting at their favorite table in a rarely used corner of the library, Derek with his back to the wall and Stiles was across from him. Derek gave Stiles a look that clearly said that hacking the computers would _not_ have been way more fun, so Stiles kicked his foot under the table. Derek gave Stiles another look, which said that this little kicking fight was above him, and then he kicked Stiles back. Stiles had to stifle a chortle so no one came all the way back there to yell at them.

Stiles hated Kira a little bit when he got out of bed early Saturday morning for their run. There was supposed to be a high of 46 and the rain had passed, but this early there was still frost on the ground and Stiles was especially thankful for the ear flaps on his hat. They stayed on the well-traveled trails by unspoken agreement.

The day went quickly, between studying and visiting Doofus, but Stiles and Kira returned to the campus early because their dorm was hosting their monthly brownie party and Stiles thought it might be a good time to scope out their dorm mates and try to determine how someone was figuring out which ones were supernatural. The only thing Stiles got was a stomach ache because there were six types of brownies (including peanut butter swirl) and ice cream, and Stiles insisted on trying them all.

A week later Derek told Stiles that Laura had received the information from Professor Hughes. She’d made a copy, and Derek handed the thumb drive to Stiles. Since they were in the library, Stiles immediately inserted the thumb drive into his lap top and looked at the information – two semesters worth of class schedules and class rosters, dorm addresses, extracurricular activities, and for Sarah he’d even included the classes she’d TA’d for.

This is where Stiles could help; he called Danny.

“No,” Danny said when he answered the call.

“It’s not illegal,” Stiles assured Danny, but it took the promise of cold hard cash (in the form of bit coin) before Danny provided them with a program that would sift the information to look for overlap.

Stiles dropped by baseball practice (solely to fill Derek in on the status of their investigation) and thought he was going to get tossed out when the coach glanced over at him and then said something to one of his assistants. As the assistant coach approached Stiles, he considered leaving, but he told himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong (he wasn’t the only person there to watch, though he was pretty sure the others were girlfriends) and straightened his shoulders.

“You Stilinski?” the assistant coach, Billard, said.

“Yes?”

Billard grinned. “You not sure?”

“Yes, I’m Stiles, er, Stilinksi.”

“Derek says you know something about baseball, that true?”

“Derek?” Stiles said, glancing out at the mound where Derek was tossing some warm-up pitches. Between pitches, Derek met Stiles’ gaze. His expression of concentration didn’t completely hide his discomfort.

Stiles looked back at Billard. “Yes, but if you’re recruiting I’m not sure I’m coordinated enough to play.”

Billard gave Stiles a look. “We need a scorekeeper; our previous one graduated last year.”

“You want me to . . . ?”

“Attend the games and keep score,” Billard said.

“All of the games? Like, even the away games?” Stiles said.

“All of the games. That a problem?”

“No!” Stiles said, trying not to hyperventilate. “That’s not . . .”

“Good. Come on over and we’ll get you started.”

“Now?”

“You ever kept score before?”

“Um, no,” Stiles admitted.

“Then yeah, now.”

Stiles followed Billard over to the dugout. He glanced out Derek again when Billard was explaining the scoresheet, and thought he looked a bit more relaxed.

“Did you think I’d say no?” Stiles asked Derek after practice.

Derek shrugged. “No. I just thought I’d have time to ask you before they sprang it on you.”

“You really think I’ll be good at it?” Stiles said.

“You’re detail-oriented, so yeah.”

Stiles hadn’t thought about it before, but, “What about classes?”

“Most of the games are on the weekends, so you shouldn’t miss any classes.” Derek gave Stiles a look. “Are you telling me you haven’t memorized the schedule yet?”

“Please,” Stiles said, ignoring the blush crawling up his throat in hopes that Derek would miss it, “your baseball schedule isn’t that important to me.”

“Okay,” Derek said, “we’ll go with that. Then why were you there today?”

“Because I had something to tell you,” Stiles said, having forgotten about Danny in the rush of learning how to properly fill out a scorecard. Stiles told Derek about the program that would help them sort through the information Professor Hughes had gotten. Derek grunted in response.

The weekend of March 1 and 2 was the first baseball series of the season, and of course it was at the Naval Academy in Annapolis. Friday afternoon a bus drove them to the airport in Ithaca, and then to the hotel in Annapolis. Before they left, Stiles reminded Kira not to go running on her own. She promised to be careful, and texted him continuously, but Stiles didn’t stop worrying until she met them at the bus upon their return.

Derek sat next to Stiles on the bus and plane, but there was little talking. Derek read a novel that Stiles didn’t catch the title of when Derek drew it out of his bag, and Stiles listened to an audio of a book he needed to read for class. The regimented nature of traveling to an away game surprised Stiles; after they arrived at the hotel, they dropped off their bags in their rooms, ate dinner in the hotel restaurant, then attended study hall before curfew was called.

Rooming assignments was something Stiles had tried to not think about before they left, but the hand of fate (or Derek) had arranged for Stiles and Derek to share a double. Stiles didn’t know whether to be grateful that he was sharing with Derek, or mortified because Derek couldn’t possibly have missed Stiles’ reaction to him shirtless when he got ready for bed, although he thankfully ignored it.

They lost the first game, but Stiles was more concerned with the fact that it was _freaking freezing_ and even with fingerless gloves on his hand his fingers didn’t want to work to fill in the tiny boxes on the scoresheet. Big Red won the second game of the double-header behind Derek’s pitching, and won the third game on Sunday in extra innings. The entire team, including Stiles, was riding a high when they got on the bus to head back to the airport.

They were on the plane, Derek’s book already open, the audio rewound to where Stiles had fallen asleep on the flight down, when Stiles nudged Derek and waited for Derek to raise his gaze from the book. “You’re still swinging at the balls low and inside.”

Derek gave Stiles a look, and Stiles grinned before closing his eyes so he could listen to the story unfolding in his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles felt bad for not visiting Doofus over the weekend, so he spend Monday afternoon after Botany out at the Hale place. Doofus was always excited to see Stiles, so he couldn’t tell if Doofus was any more excited than usual.

Laura told Stiles that they had checked out the few hits they’d gotten using Danny’s program with no luck, and that Professor Hughes had touched base with his contacts in the Cornell University Police and Ithaca Police Department, but so far none of the names they were searching had any connection to known hunter families.

The first Thursday in March was World Cuisine Night, and because scorekeeper was a paid position Stiles had been able to get rid of his dining hall shifts so he was able to attend. He made it his mission to visit all ten dining halls so he could get his ‘passport’ stamped at each and enter to win a prize. Kira gamely went with him, though she’d stopped eating five stops in. Later, Stiles laid on his bed groaning, reconsidering all of his life choices.

The next three weekends were all away games and if it wasn’t for the fact that Derek was his seat-buddy and roommate, he might’ve gotten sick of all the travel. It helped to ease Stiles’ conscience that there was enough downtime to get some studying done, but he continued to worry about Kira and Laura and to miss Doofus.

Stiles was excited beyond belief when the games against Sacred Heart had to be moved from the ballpark at Harbor Yard to two different neutral locations, including MCU Park in Brooklyn for Sunday’s games. Stiles was in heaven! Stiles’ excitement was tempered by the fact that Sacred Heart swept the four game series, but being on Coney Island made up for a lot.

Stiles did a double-take when he saw Kira’s parents at the Sunday games. It seemed strange to see them without Kira. When Stiles mentioned it to Derek later, he said that the Yukimuras attended one or two games a season when the team came to venues close to the city. They had a chance to talk after the game, but couldn’t accept the Yukimura’s invitation to dinner because the bus was leaving. 

After five weeks without another murder, Stiles had grown complacent. He was celebrating the fact that the first weekday away game against the University of Albany was canceled Tuesday due to weather while he and Derek waited for Kira outside the dining hall when even Stiles noticed the uptick in chatter, voices raised in concern. Kira showed up soon after, pale, her voice shaking, and told them that another body had been found: Leon. Apparently his boyfriend Troy had been the one to find him. Kira was especially upset because she’d gotten to know the two boys better since some of Stiles’ time was taken up now with the baseball team.

Derek immediately called Laura, who hung up on him to call Professor Hughes. None of them ate very much, horrified by another murder and saddened by the fact that it was someone they knew from volleyball and bowling and brownie nights.

Laura didn’t get back to Derek before Stiles had to leave for class. Derek insisted on walking him, and Stiles didn’t protest. Professor Hughes taught this Mythology course; before he began the class he addressed the rumors floating around. He offered to let students out of class if they needed to deal with the tragedy, and then went on with the course work. Stiles stayed if only because he didn’t know where else to go, but he paid more attention to his phone than to Hughes, hoping to hear from Derek or Laura.

Unsurprisingly, Derek was waiting for him outside the hall when class got out. “Don’t you have practice?” Stiles said to hide how inordinately glad he was to see Derek.

Derek didn’t respond to that. “I heard back from Laura.”

“What did she say?”

According to Troy, Leon had gone out for a run alone because Troy had a make-up lab, but when he didn’t come back or answer Troy’s calls or texts, Troy went out to look for him in case he’d fallen. Stiles shuddered as he imagined finding the body of someone he loved, dead and mutilated the way the previous two bodies had been.

The campus seemed much quieter for the next few days, and then quieter still when many students left for Spring Break. Stiles had been looking forward to finally having some home games, but Leon’s death put a pall over them. Since the two series fell over the first half of spring break, Kira wasn’t able to attend. Her parents picked her up Friday after her last class and drove back to New York City without even staying for dinner because they had to catch a Norwegian cruise ship to the Bahamas the next day.

Despite the fact that there were more people on campus over spring break than there had been over Thanksgiving, Stiles accepted Laura’s invitation (read: order) to stay with them out at their place for the week. They were having no luck finding the murderer and it was grating on Stiles. As awful as it sounded, maybe now that they had more data (Professor Hughes had immediately gotten Leon’s class schedule and roster so they could input it into Danny’s search program) they’d get somewhere.

When Stiles showed up at the Hale place Friday afternoon, Doofus was in the front yard, his front half flat on the ground while his butt was up in the air, attempting to get the wolf, a black smudge against the snow, to play with him. Stiles would’ve continued to watch from inside the Jeep because it was _adorable_ , but Doofus recognized the vehicle and ran over to greet him. Stiles petted Doofus and used his best ‘dad voice’ to tell Doofus to not jump on him. Which Doofus naturally ignored.

The wolf gave a deep growl low in his throat and Doofus immediately plopped his butt down on the ground. He quivered with excitement, but stayed sitting. The wolf gave Stiles a look as if to say, that’s how you do it, and then returned to ignore them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said to the wolf, and then, “Good boy, Doofus!” Which Doofus took as permission to leap on him again. Stiles did not glance over at the wolf, because he knew it would be judging him hard.

Stiles and Doofus wrestled on the ground, and soon the snow had soaked through Stiles’ pants. The wolf made a huffy bark and when Stiles glanced over he noticed that they’d rolled closer to him. He wondered if the wolf was warning them off. Doofus didn’t seem to think so. He returned to trying to get the wolf to play with him. Hunkering down on his front legs and barking, darting forward and then away, encouraging the wolf to chase him.

It took Stiles a moment to realize that the wolf, seemingly aloof, wanted to play with them. Stiles didn’t know how dangerous roughhousing with a wolf would be, so he scooped up a handful of snow, packed it into a ball, and threw it at the wolf’s head. The snowball broke apart and coated the wolf’s face with snow.

The wolf slowly turned its head to look at Stiles; sizing up its prey. The wolf barked to Doofus without looking away from Stiles, and slowly Doofus turned until he was also studying Stiles.

“No fair!” Stiles yelped when he realized that they were ganging up on him.

Stiles knew it was the absolutely wrong thing to do even as he did it, but he got to his feet and ran. If the speed he achieved in the short distance he covered before he was taken down could be called a ‘run’. Stiles’ face landed in the snow, and he had to fight off Doofus’ tongue so he could roll over. He couldn’t get up, though, because the wolf was lying across his legs.

“You’re hilarious,” Stiles said.

The wolf pretended not to hear him, but Stiles could tell by the way he actually preened that he had.

“Are you going to let me up?”

The wolf waited just long enough for Stiles to get the message that getting off of his legs was solely the wolf’s decision. The wolf stood and managed to spray Stiles in the face with the snow he shook off his fur.

“Ass,” Stiles said fondly as the wolf trotted away.

Doofus whined, but he stayed by Stiles’ side. A moment later the door opened and Laura stepped out of the house.

“Hey, Laura!” Stiles called.

Laura raised her hand. “Stiles, you made it!”

“You just missed the wolf.”

Laura’s eyebrows went up. “Did I?”

“Yeah, he was out here playing with Doofus.” Stiles dug his fingers into the fur under Doofus’ collar.

“Was he,” Laura said, and it almost sounded like she was biting back a laugh. “They get along pretty well,” she said, and her voice was back to normal.

Stiles got up and dusted off his pants, though the damage was already done. He followed Laura towards the barn. “Where’s Derek?”

Laura made a choked sound. “Oh, he’s around. I’m sure he’ll show up eventually now that you’re here.”

Stiles didn’t know what she meant by that, and he didn’t want to think about it too hard, so he concentrated on helping her with the chores. Doofus followed in their wake, sniffing at everything. When they finally made it to the house, Derek was standing at the stove with his back to the door. His hair was wet and he was wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants.

“There you are!” Stiles said. “Were you hiding in here the whole time?”

Doofus left Stiles and Laura in the mud room to take off their wet outerwear and padded over to Derek. Doofus stuck his nose against Derek’s leg, and Derek absently reached down to scritch his ears.

“I went for a run,” Derek said over his shoulder.

Stiles nearly fell over imagining Derek in the shower after his run. Laura reached out to steady him, and Stiles had to look away from her smirk, as if she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.

“Crap, my bags,” Stiles said, remembering them right after he’d peeled out of his boots.

“I already got them,” Derek said, his shoulders tight.

“Really? Thanks, big guy!”

Big guy? Laura mouthed.

Shut up, Stiles mouthed back.

Derek’s shoulders had relaxed when Stiles looked back at him, and Stiles wondered if he’d imagined it. Why would Derek be tense about having gotten his bags out of the Jeep? Stiles shook it off and said, “What are you making?”

“Chili,” Derek said. “Corn bread’s in the oven.”

“How come you didn’t come out to help with chores, Der?” Laura said.

“I knew you had help. And Stiles would be hungry enough to eat a horse.”

“You make it sound like the only thing I come out here for is the food,” Stiles said.

“Isn’t it?” Laura said with enough sweetness to choke a . . . something that could get choked by sweetness.

“No!” Stiles said, and only then realized his mistake. “I also come out here to see Doofus. And JC. And the kittens. Actually, all the animals except for Gus. And Derek.”

Stiles smiled at Laura and silently dared her to call him on the omission. Instead she grabbed him around the neck and gave him a noogie.

“Not fair, not fair!” Stiles yelled, causing Doofus to start barking.

Derek stepped around them all and set the table amidst the fracas.

~*~

Laura still had to run their weekly training class Saturday morning, but she attended the second game. Stiles got permission to sit in the stands since there weren’t a lot of students attending; he saved Laura a seat and in return she brought him a tray of nachos with melted cheese and a soda. April brought warmer temperatures and Stiles no longer had to wear gloves while keeping score. The three of them went out to eat after the game, and then back to the house.

Everything felt familiar at the Hale place, and Stiles quickly got used to being there again. He helped with chores (staying well clear of Gus even when he was in his pen), got ahead on his course work so that he didn’t fall behind during the remainder of the baseball season, watched movies with Derek and Laura, played with Doofus every day, and went running with Derek, also every day, even on the days Derek had a game.

“Werewolf stamina is so unfair,” Stiles lamented when they returned to the house sweat-covered with only one of them out of breath.

On Tuesday Laura sat through both games with Stiles and then she left because they were flying out immediately after the game for a two-game series with George Mason University in Fairfax, VA the next day. That weekend they had a double-header at Yale on Saturday, and then at Brown on Sunday. Stiles was going to miss the first hike along Cayuga Trail East for the Celebrate Ithaca Trails event because they were leaving Friday afternoon for the flight to New Haven, CT, but he figured it was worth it to see Lydia again. After two games against Yale on Saturday, they caught a bus to Providence, RI for Sunday’s games.

Lydia had only teased Stiles a little bit when he told her he was the new scorekeeper for Big Red’s baseball team, but she immediately looked up the schedule. They were both disappointed that Harvard played in Ithaca instead of Cambridge that year, though Stiles was less disappointed when Lydia said that she was disappointed in part because she’d love to meet Derek.

A few days after that conversation, Lydia had texted Stiles to tell him that she’d arranged her schedule so she could attend Big Red’s games against Brown. She drove the one hour trip down to Providence Sunday morning and met up with Stiles after breakfast. The players had a study session before they had to start getting ready for the game which Stiles got excused from so he and Lydia could do some sight-seeing.

They walked down Benefit Street in downtown Providence – a mile walk on a cobblestone street lined with historic buildings – because it was close to the University. They got coffees and pastry from Blue Room Café; Lydia bought and they got a table so she could give Stiles his birthday present, a leather pouch that held five stones – Anyolite, Cat’s Eye, Hematite, Jade, and Magnetite according to the card included.

Stiles would have to look up the meaning behind the various stones later, but for now he knew that Lydia would have researched them thoroughly and that they were given to him because she cared about his well-being. He also knew they were probably expensive. “Lyds,” Stiles said, filled with emotion.

“I’ve told you not to call me that, Stiles,” Lydia said, but she returned his hug.

Stiles tucked the pouch into the front pocket of his hoodie. While they finished their pastry and then explored the Brown University campus before heading back to Murray Stadium, his fingers kept slipping into his pocket to touch the pouch. Stiles got them into the game with his pass and they paused to watch the players, who were still warming up on the field, before he went to the dugout to get the scorebook.

“So,” Lydia said, “that’s Derek.”

“I haven’t even pointed him out to you,” Stiles said.

“I’m guessing he’s the one glaring at me,” Lydia said, then waved.

“Oh my god!” Stiles said, slapping at her hand though he didn’t even know why he was embarrassed. “What are you doing?”

“Just saying hi,” Lydia said.

Stiles dragged Lydia over to the dugout and introduced her to the coaches and equipment manager. She chatted easily with the players as they moved through the dugout, coming out of the locker room and heading out onto the field, or finishing up their warm-ups, while Stiles filled out the scorecard for the first game with the starting line-ups for both teams.

The team gathered in the dugout for introductions, and Stiles took the opportunity to introduce a stone-faced Derek to Lydia.

Lydia, unfazed by Derek’s less-than-welcoming expression held out her hand and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Derek.”

Derek shook Lydia’s hand, but clearly only because politeness demanded it of him.

“Stiles talks about you all the time.”

“I, what?” Stiles squawked.

For the first time since Lydia showed up Derek’s face changed. He smirked at Stiles.

“I do not,” Stiles said, but Derek was already heading out to the third base line where the rest of the starting players were lining up. Stiles had missed hearing them call Derek’s name.

Derek started the first game on the mound and Big Red won 6-1. Stiles was pretty excited about that. He didn’t know why, but he wanted the team, and Derek in particular, to have a good game in front of Lydia.

Derek played center field during the second game. He was one of the few players who played two positions; it was even more unusual because he was a pitcher. Stiles had had to stifle a snicker during one game when Billard said in an aside to Coach Peterson that Derek had the best arm he’d ever seen on a college center fielder. Big Red also won the second game, though it was behind slightly less impressive pitching, in Stiles’ opinion.

Derek got three hits in the second game, two singles and a double. Stiles had noticed that Derek, despite his enhanced abilities, rarely hit a home run. Stiles never asked, but he presumed it was so Derek could remain under the radar of anyone paying attention, hunter or scout. Despite getting a hit each time at bat, Derek made sure to swing at some balls that were well out of the strike zone, which allowed Stiles to call out a reminder to lay off the balls low and inside.

Stiles grinned to himself when Derek’s jaw clenched and he purposely reset himself in the box before hitting the double up the right field line, just out of reach of the first baseman’s glove.

On the bus ride to the airport, and the flight home, Stiles kept playing over Lydia’s words to him after the final out. “I can see why you like him.”

“What?” Stiles had said.

“If it’s any consolation, he likes you, too.”

“What?”

Stiles glanced over at Derek now, who was actually sleeping during the flight rather than reading. There was nothing between him and Derek, so he didn’t know what Lydia thought she saw, but clearly she wasn’t as smart as he’d thought she was. Clearly.

Kira was already unpacked by the time Stiles picked up his Jeep from the Hale place and gave Doofus some playtime before returning to campus. Kira was jumpy her first two days back (Stiles couldn’t deny that he was more careful to make sure he was never alone), so he asked Laura if he could bring her along when he went out to their house for dinner Tuesday night. It was raining when they ran across campus to the Jeep, and Stiles didn’t even care.

Unbeknownst to Stiles, the dinner was in celebration of his birthday, which he hadn’t even realized that Derek and Laura knew about. Derek made nachos that they all snacked on while the main meal, which turned out to be escalloped potatoes and ham, baked in the oven. After clean-up, Laura brought out an envelope.

“You guys already gave me Doofus!” Stiles protested.

“Don’t get too excited before you open it,” Laura said wryly.

Stiles opened the envelope; inside was a record of Doofus’ shots and a reminder to have him neutered. Doofus was nearly six months old now, so the time was nearly upon them. Stiles’ dad had sent him money for his birthday, and Stiles had an idea now where it would be going. “Did you guys pay for all these vet visits?” Stiles said.

“Yes,” Laura said.

“It’s too much,” Stiles said. “I’ll pay you back . . .”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Laura said. “You’re pa–, part of the family now,” she finished after a slight hesitation.

“Thank you,” Stiles said. “Really, I . . . I don’t know what to say. I’m such a bad owner,” he said, looking down at Doofus who was lying on the floor near him. Doofus, seeing that he had Stiles’ attention, rolled over and offered his belly. Stiles slid off the chair and went to his knees so he could pet Doofus and get some puppy kisses.

“Okay, enough doting on Doofus,” Kira said. “Open my present!”

“You got me a present, too?” Stiles said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Kira said. “Now open it.”

The present was a gift certificate to Stiles’ favorite food truck, Louie’s Lunch. Stiles laughed. “You know me so well.”

“The way to Stiles’ heart . . . ,” Kira said glibly.

Stiles didn’t understand why Derek blushed and Laura chuckled at that. Derek hurried to get out cake and ice cream so they could sing ‘Happy Birthday’, and Laura laughed harder.

Stiles felt bad leaving Kira on her own the next day for an away game in Binghamton even though it was only for half the day. At least Binghamton was just an hour bus ride away, so Stiles only missed his one afternoon class.

That weekend the team had a four game series against the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. Stiles had never been to Philly, so he was excited about the opportunity to do some sight-seeing while they were there. The evenings they arrived were usually structured – eat, study, bed – but since they had a second double-header in the same city on Sunday, there would be time Saturday after the first double-header to look around.

“Do you know how much work would go into planning an excursion like that?” Billard had said when Stiles first broached the subject. But Billard had talked to Peterson, who’d talked to the athletic director, who had spoken to someone else, but the point was, Stiles was going to get to go sight-seeing.

Stiles did another double-take when he saw Kira’s parents at the Saturday games. Even though Derek had mentioned that they attended one or two games a season, it still seemed strange to see them there. They won the first game 9-0. Stiles’ excitement was tempered by his superstition that a high-scoring game like that usually meant the team had shot their wad with regard to hits for the rest of the series.

Unfortunately, his pessimism was borne out when the team lost the next three games, but Saturday ended 1-1 and so the coaches and players weren’t too bummed when they went on their sight-seeing venture. Peterson, who apparently knew the Yukimuras, didn’t make a fuss when the couple joined them. In fact, one time Stiles looked over and saw the three of them holding an intense conversation. He elbowed Derek and indicated the group.

Derek shrugged. “They know each other.”

Stiles stared some more. “Wait, does that mean that Coach Peterson is . . .” He jerked his head, meaning, you know.

“You know the rules, Stiles.”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell?”

Derek’s lips twitched. “Something like that, yeah.”

But that raised another question that Stiles, despite living in a dorm that housed Cornell’s “multi-cultural” program, hadn’t previously considered. “How many guys on the team are . . . ?”

Derek merely raised an eyebrow and kept walking. Stiles looked around; it suddenly felt like everyone was staring at him. Just as he was wondering how many people had overheard his conversation with Derek, Kira’s parents approached him. Stiles wanted to feel relieved, but he really didn’t.

Kira’s mom said, “I sent my daughter to Cornell because I thought she’d be safe there.”

Stiles searched for a response; he imagined that is face must’ve looked like a fish gasping for air. “Everyone’s scared,” he finally said.

“Fix it,” Mrs. Yukimura said. Kira’s dad placed his hand on her arm and she took a breath.

“We’re trying to find whoever’s doing this,” Stiles said.

“The area around Ithaca has been a safe haven for supernatural creatures for over a hundred years,” Kira’s mom said, “but there hasn’t been a pack to protect it in decades.” She shrugged. “It was fine because we didn’t need one. Now we do.”

“I don’t understand,” Stiles said.

“Didn’t Satomi talk to you?” Mrs. Yukimura said, exasperated.

“Yes?” Stiles said, remembering his visit with Satomi over winter break. “But not about this.”

Derek was frowning when he rejoined them. Stiles wondered how much of that conversation he’d overheard. The conversation turned to lighter matters, but Kira’s mom looked like she still had much on her mind. The Yukimuras remained with them through dinner, then said their goodbyes when the team had to return to the hotel. They gave Derek and Stiles hugs goodbye, and bade both of them to take care. Stiles’ arm tingled from where Kira’s mom had held it a beat too long.

~*~

Tuesday’s home game against Sienna was cancelled due to weather, though it had cleared by that night’s hike in the Stevenson Preserve in Enfield. Stiles and Kira drove out in the Jeep. Kira didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised when Derek appeared out of nowhere to join them. The guide told them a little bit about the history of the preserve as they walked and Stiles was glad that he’d finally gotten to go on one of the hikes.

Big Red hosted Binghamton on Thursday, then a four-game series against Columbia over the weekend. Stiles was relieved for the traveling break, and happy to be able to spend more time with Kira, even if some of that time was spent in the library. Binghamton was back in Ithaca on the following Tuesday (Stiles didn’t bother asking why they’d separated the two games), and then Princeton on Friday, which is when their losing streak begun in Philly finally broke.

Kira came to all the home games. Sometimes Troy came with her, and occasionally a group of their dorm-mates showed up to cheer on the team. Laura made as many of them as she could fit around her work schedule. Since Stiles wasn’t traveling as much, they made it to a couple more of the hikes around Ithaca, one on Black Diamond Trail and the other on the Cayuga Trail.

After the second home game against Princeton, which was the final home game of the season, Stiles went out to the Hale place to visit Doofus. Kira had a date with someone named Kyle. He was in one of her study groups and they’d hung out a bit more during the times when Stiles was away, mostly studying. Stiles teased Kira about the ‘mostly’, but she blushed and insisted that she’d merely meant they’d sometimes gotten something to eat or gone to a movie on campus with a group of friends, nothing more.

It had been a high of 64 during the day, but it was starting to cool down and Stiles was glad he had his sweatshirt on. Derek and Stiles were sitting on the front porch watching Doofus annoy Gus, and then run like heck when Gus turned on him. “He’s not going to come up here, is he?” Stiles said regarding Gus, who still scared the pants off him.

“Probably not,” Derek said after a hesitation.

“Ass,” Stiles said when he saw the corner of Derek’s lips curve. “You’re protecting me if he does.”

Speaking those words, even jokingly, reminded Stiles of the weird conversation he’d had with Kira’s mom in Philly, and his realization that Coach Peterson was (most likely) some kind of supernatural creature. “Is that why you decided to go to school here? Because of it being kind of a safe haven for supernatural creatures?” Stiles added when he realized that Derek had no way of following his train of thought.

Derek was quiet for a moment, and Stiles thought he might not answer. “We didn’t come up here for me to go to school,” Derek finally said. “When we left Beacon Hills, I was a mess. I wasn’t handling . . . things well.”

Of course you weren’t, no one would have, Stiles wanted to say, but he didn’t want to interrupt Derek’s train of thought.

“We ended up in New York City because our mom knew some people there. They tried to help us, but . . . I dropped out of school,” Derek said. He looked away from Stiles. “I didn’t care about finishing high school; I didn’t care about anything.”

Derek sighed, and Stiles was afraid he wouldn’t continue, but he did. “Laura heard about this place upstate where we weren’t hunted. She did some research and found this farm near the state park. I hated it at first, because I hated everything back then, especially myself.”

“What happened?” Stiles said, because he had to know.

“I found a dog,” Derek said. “On the side of the road. She’d been hit by a car and I knew she wasn’t going to make it, but I took her pain and I brought her home and we made her as comfortable as we could until she died.” Derek curled his lips. “And then Laura got the idea of starting an animal training and rescue business. It was stupid, but it worked. Little by little I started caring about things again. I got my GED. I took some courses at the community college. And when Laura suggested I apply to Cornell it didn’t sound like a stupid idea.”

“I’m glad,” Stiles said. “That you started caring again.”

Stiles glanced over at Doofus, who was yet again attempting to get Gus to chase him, then slid closer to Derek on the step. He reached out and took Derek’s hand. Derek gave Stiles a look, but didn’t pull his hand back. “I know it doesn’t compare to what you went through, but I still really miss my mom.”

“Grief isn’t a competition,” Derek said, and it sounded kind and exasperated and gruff and so freaking Derek that Stiles wanted to kiss him.

Stiles’ breath hitched and his heart skipped. Derek looked at him, because of course he noticed. Stiles’ gaze dropped to Derek’s lips.

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice rough.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, ducking his head. He felt foolish for even considering it. “I know that’s not what you’re, I mean, I know you don’t . . .”

Stiles was actually relieved when Derek kissed him to shut him up. The surprise kicked in, but Stiles shoved it back and returned the kiss with more enthusiasm than skill. Derek pulled back and Stiles tried to follow him, but Derek gently touched Stiles’ face and said, “No.”

The word felt like a bucket of ice water. “What do you mean?” Stiles said, thinking it had to be something other than what it sounded like because Derek had been the one to kiss _him_.

“We can’t do this,” Derek said, confirming Stiles’ suspicions.

“We already did this,” Stiles said.

“You’re eighteen years old . . .”

“Nineteen,” Stiles corrected.

“. . . and I’m six years older than you . . .”

“You’re not Kate,” Stiles said with sudden clarity, “and I’m not sixteen.”

Derek didn’t look convinced, and Stiles wanted to push, wanted to plead and persuade, but then he realized that _he_ didn’t want to be Kate, either. With horror, Stiles pushed himself away from Derek.

“Doofus, come,” Stiles said, choking on the words.

Doofus came running over and Stiles petted him and hugged and kissed him and pretended that tears weren’t burning the back of his eyes. He put Doofus inside so he wouldn’t follow him down the driveway, told Derek he’d see him tomorrow, then strode over to the Jeep. Gus eyed him up, but must’ve decided that now wasn’t a good time to try and scare Stiles.

Stiles stopped in to see Kira before he went to his room, but was glad that she wasn’t back yet so he didn’t have to try to come up with an explanation for whatever his face gave away.

Derek wasn’t at the house on Saturday when Stiles went out. The wolf was there, but he regarded Stiles steadily, as if he knew what had happened between Stiles and Derek, and then he got up and left. “Stupid wolf,” Stiles said, and tried not to feel abandoned by both Derek and the wolf.

There were two more games against Princeton on Sunday, this time in Princeton. Stiles wasn’t sure that Derek was going to sit next to him on the bus ride to the airport, but he did. On the plane Derek put in earphones and listened to music or an audio book, and Stiles took it very personally. Stiles ignored Derek as much as one could ignore the person sitting in the seat next to you, and wrote an essay for his Mythology class long-hand, knowing it would be a pain to have to type it all in later but wanting to get a start on it. Thankfully this wasn’t an overnight trip; Stiles would’ve been mortified if Derek had wanted to switch roommates at this point.

The final two games of the season scheduled for Tuesday against Canisus College in Buffalo were cancelled, and the Big Red baseball season abruptly ended. Stiles was both relieved and disappointed. He dreaded seeing Derek again and having Derek ignore him, but he also missed seeing Derek, and having those hours with him when he had Derek’s (mostly) undivided attention.

Stiles didn’t see Derek for the rest of the week, not even from a distance while doing dog-walking duty. He didn’t show up to study or have lunch with them and Kira seemed to accept Stiles’ excuse that Derek was busy with something else. He should’ve known she was more insightful than that, because on Friday night while Stiles was drunk on caffeine and sugar (it was brownie night again), she asked him why Derek really stopped showing up.

“Because I kissed him,” Stiles said before he could censor himself.

Kira squeed, which included a high-pitched squeal she didn’t let escape her throat and bouncing in place. “I knew it! I could tell that the two of you had a thing.”

“We don’t have a thing,” Stiles said. “Because Derek doesn’t want to have a thing with me.”

“Of course he does,” Kira said.

“He really doesn’t.”

“But,” Kira said, realizing that Stiles was not nearly as excited about the kiss as she was, “I was so sure . . .”

Stiles remembered the kiss. The kiss that Derek has instigated. Technically, he supposed there was a thing, it just wasn’t going to go anywhere. “He says I’m too young. Or he’s too old. Or something stupid like that.”

“Oh,” Kira said. “What did you say?”

For a moment Stiles wished the beanbag chair would suck him in like the hot pink beanbag chairs of black holes. He scrubbed his hands over his face, then answered. “I told him that he wasn’t Kate, and I wasn’t sixteen.”

Kira was silent for a moment. “How’d that go over?”

Stiles sighed. “About like you’d think.”

The good news was that Stiles had a lot of time to devote to studying. Given how he’d felt like he had to cram studying in during the baseball season, it almost felt like too much time. Stiles read ahead, wrote essays that were coming due, and even went back and rewrote an essay he’d done ‘on the road’. He still went out to the Hale place to visit with Doofus and the other animals (he was pretty sure Gus was coming around), but Derek was conveniently never there when he arrived. Stiles told himself he didn’t care, but Stiles knew he was a big fat liar.

Stiles started running with Kira again on the weekends. Sunday was May 4th, and Risley Dining Hall had a ‘May the Fourth Be With You’ Star Wars Themed Menu with items like Our Sithwich Station featuring Kanjiclub and Darth Maul sandwiches, as well as a wing bar, offering X-Wings (habanero-blackberry), A-Wings (garlic parmesan), Y-Wings (honey BBQ), and Tie Fighters (Thai green curry). The Dessert Bar included Darth by Chocolate Cupcakes and there was even going to be a special Light Saber Battle performance. Stiles was in his element. He took lots of photos of the event and bombarded Scott with them over the entire two hour period.

Classes ended the following Wednesday and Stiles was filled with a plethora of conflicting emotions. He was relieved classes were over, but worried about exams. He was happy about going home to see his dad and Scott and everyone else, but he was sad to be leaving Derek and Doofus and Laura and Kira, especially since Derek was still avoiding Stiles.

Stiles buckled down to study, determined to ace his exams and forget about Derek. It was easier said than done. Stiles was actually _happy_ when Kira appeared in his room on Friday afternoon to ask him to go for a run with her.

“I thought you were going running with Troy,” Stiles said.

Kira had turned her back so Stiles could change out of his jeans into a pair of sweat pants. “I was, but he had to cancel in favor of a group study session.”

“His loss is my gain,” Stiles said.

“Wow, you must be feeling bad,” Kira said, then immediately apologized for it.

“It’s fine,” Stiles said. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Kira said. “Really?”

“I will be,” Stiles said gamely.

Kira slapped Stiles’ arm. “You’ll feel better after a run.”

“You always say that,” Stiles said, “and it’s always a lie.”

~*~

They ran in silence. Not because Stiles had to choose between breathing and talking (he’d gained a lot of stamina over the past year), but because they could enjoy the view now that spring had actually returned to Ithaca.

There was a ‘thwap’, then Kira grunted and stumbled. At first Stiles thought she’d tripped over something on the running path, but then he saw the shaft of an arrow protruding from her back. Stiles’ brain ran in ten different directions before focusing on the fact that they needed to get out of the middle of the path. He grabbed Kira despite the pained sounds coming from her throat, and tried to drag her off the path.

Stiles felt a burning sensation at his hip. He glanced down to see an arrow sticking out of his body. Stiles wanted to be sick, but he didn’t have time for that. Still, he was fucking pissed. “You asshole!” Stiles yelled. “I’m fucking _human_!” He gently touched his fingers to the torn material around the wound. “And I loved these sweat pants. They were my favorites. I’d worn them in perfectly.”

As he spoke, Stiles fumbled with his phone. He sent Derek and Laura a brief SOS text with their location and hoped that they were near their phones. Stiles went to his knees because it was difficult to stand with the pain of the arrow, and the wolfsbane, let’s not forget that, shooting down his leg.

“How are you doing?” Stiles said to Kira.

“Fine,” Kira said, her voice tight.

“Don’t try to pull out the arrow,” Stiles warned, though probably unnecessarily since it was lodged in her back.

Kira turned her head and glared up at Stiles from where she was bent over on her hands and knees so she didn’t knock the arrow into anything.

“You probably knew that,” Stiles said.

Kira breathed hard, then said, “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said.

A moment later Stiles heard footsteps on the path. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered to Kira, who nodded that she’d also heard them.

Despite the pain in his hip, Stiles turned so that he blocked Kira from whoever was coming down the path. He let out a sigh of relief when he recognized the person. “Troy,” Stiles said, “thank god . . .” His voice trailed off when he saw the bow in Troy’s hand. Stiles raised his gaze and met Troy’s cold eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to be here, Stiles,” Troy said.

“I see you didn’t let that stop you,” Stiles said, indicating the arrow in his hip. His brain raced as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

Troy shrugged. “You might not be supernatural yourself, but you’re part of that world.”

“So are you,” Stiles said.

“Not by choice!” Troy said, spittle spraying from his lips. “I was bitten, just like your friend Scott. I killed the monster that bit me, and do you know what happened?”

Stiles shook his head and carefully reached into his pocket.

“Nothing!” Troy screamed. “I’m still a monster! I wanted to kill myself, but then I had an . . . an epiphany. Sometimes it takes a monster to kill a monster. What are you doing?” Troy said, finally noticing that Stiles had pulled something from his pocket. He took a step forward, but it was too late.

Stiles dumped the mountain ash into his hand, some of it spilling in his rush, and then flung it towards Troy. Stiles imagined the circle he wanted to form around Troy and the ash swirled in the air like leaves caught in a whirlwind before settling on the ground in a perfect circle around Troy.

Troy, still moving forward, ran into the invisible wall that had been erected around him by the mountain ash. He looked confused as he probed the wall with his hand, and then he laughed, an ugly sound that grated down Stiles’ back. “Mountain ash? I guess you are something after all, aren’t you, Stiles?” Troy said.

“No,” Stiles said. He was getting really irritated with people assuming he was more than he was.

“You’re forgetting something about mountain ash, though,” Troy said as he raised the bow.

Stiles recognized the danger immediately, and imagined the circle of mountain ash into a tighter ring around Troy so he didn’t have room to shoot the bow, but it was too late. Stiles only had a second to jump out of the way, but doing so would leave Kira exposed. Before Stiles came to a decision, a black wolf leapt out of the tree line in front of Stiles.

“No!” Stiles cried out, but the wolf took the arrow in it’s right shoulder.

The wolf stumbled when it landed on the path, it’s right front leg going out from under it. He still looked formidable, though, when he limped in front of Stiles and snarled at Troy.

“Oh my god, wolf!” Stiles’ hand’s flailed. “You’ve been hit.”

The wolf gave Stiles a look that said, no shit, but before Stiles could get into an argument with the animal, another wolf, this one pure white, leapt onto the path. The wolf took in the situation with its red eyes: Stiles protecting Kira, both of them plus the black wolf with an arrow in them, Troy trapped in the circle of mountain ash.

The wolf transformed, and where the magnificent white wolf had stood, now stood Laura, naked and regal. “Lower the barrier, Stiles,” she commanded.

Stiles’ mouth hung open, but at a look from Laura he snapped it closed. “I can’t,” Stiles told her. “He’s armed, and you . . . aren’t.” Stiles swallowed hard.

Laura smirked (in that moment she looked so much like Derek it was scary), and popped her claws. “Trust me, I’m armed.”

Stiles waved his hand even though Deaton had told him that he didn’t need to, and broke the circle. The moment the wall was down Laura punched Troy in the face with a loud crunch and knocked him to the ground. Troy didn’t move.

“I think you might’ve broke his jaw,” Stiles said.

“Good,” Laura said as she knelt and started going through Troy’s pockets.

“What are you looking for?” Stiles said, hobbling forward and carefully setting his hand on the ruff at the back of the wolf’s neck.

“His stash of wolfsbane,” Laura said. “We’re gonna need it for Derek.”

“Derek?” Stiles said, and as if speaking his name broke a spell, the wolf beneath Stiles’ hand transformed and he felt the heat of bare skin under his palm. “Are you kidding me right now?” Stiles said. “You’re the wolf?”

Derek’s reply was a grunt of pain, and Stiles’ gaze was drawn to the black lines worming their way from the wound towards Derek’s heart. “Oh my god, Derek.” Stiles caught Derek as he tilted to the side.

“Did you find it yet?” Stiles said to Laura, then turned his attention back to Derek. “Don’t think we’re not talking about this when you’re not dying. You let me rub your belly!”

Behind him Kira made a choked sound, which reminded Stiles that Kira still had an arrow in her back. Stiles looked over his shoulder to check on Kira while trying not to dislodge the arrow in Derek’s shoulder. “Kira! How are you doing?”

“It fucking hurts a lot,” Kira said, startling Stiles with the swear word, “but I’ll live.”

“Found it!” Laura said. She hurried over to Derek and dropped onto her knees in front of him, uncaring of her nudity. Laura checked the placement of the arrow. “This is going to hurt, Der,” she warned.

“Do it,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“Hold him still,” Laura commanded Stiles, then pushed.

Stiles winced at the sucking sound as the arrow went the rest of the way through Derek’s shoulder and out the back. Laura broke the shaft and pulled the arrow the rest of the way out of Derek. Laura found a flat stone that had a bit of a dip in it and poured some of the wolfsbane into it. She approached Kira.

“We need to burn it,” Laura explained.

Despite the pain she was in, Kira held up her hand. Little sparks of electricity danced at the tips of her fingers. Kira touched the stone and set the wolfsbane alight.

“Holy crap!” Stiles said.

Laura thanked Kira and hurried back over to Derek. She packed the burnt wolfsbane into the wound, then waited. When the black lines dimmed, then disappeared altogether, Laura fell onto her ass in relief. “Okay,” she said, “okay.”

“Kira,” Laura said. “The wolfsbane?”

“I burnt it out,” Kira said, “but the arrow still fucking hurts.”

“She’s swearing,” Stiles said. “Also, how did you burn it out?”

“Same way I lit the wolfsbane on fire,” Kira said, waggling her fingers at Stiles.

“You set yourself on fire?”

Kira shrugged, then winced. “Basically.”

“Your turn,” Laura said to Stiles.

Now came the moment Stiles had been trying to not thing about. Aconite poisoning was fatal to humans. He didn’t have Kira’s handy ability, nor would packing the wound with burnt wolfsbane help. There was no cure for aconite poisoning. “What do you expect me to do?” Stiles said wryly. Beside him, Derek whined.

Laura said, “I expect you to burn it out the same way Kira did.”

“I’m not a thunder kitsune,” Stiles said.

“No,” Laura said, “but you still have a spark. Use it.”

“It’s not, like, a literal spark,” Stiles said.

“Who says?” Laura said. “It is whatever you believe it to be.”

“Jesus, you sound like Satomi,” Stiles groused, but he concentrated on his body. The nausea, the tingle in his face. He imagined that he could trace the path of the wolfsbane through his body, pictured it as the black lines that had marred Derek’s skin. Stiles created a single flame in his mind, and then he pushed it out, down, sent it coursing through his body to eliminate every trace of the wolfsbane.

When Stiles opened his eyes he was being held in Derek’s arms. “Did it work?”

“Either that or you swooned into Derek’s arms for nothing,” Laura teased, but Stiles could hear the relief in her voice.

“I called Malcolm while you were out,” Laura said. “He should be here soon.”

“Not the police?” Stiles said.

“How would you explain this?” Laura said.

“Good point.” Stiles tilted his head back and looked into Derek’s worried face. “You got my message.”

“What message?”

“My SOS text.”

Derek shook his head. “No, I felt you.”

“You felt me,” Stiles repeated.

Derek’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“We can talk about that later,” Laura said. “Right now I want to check your wound.”

“Sure,” Stiles said, his eyes slipping closed. That spell, or whatever it had been, had taken a lot out of him.

The next thing Stiles knew, Professor Hughes was there with a man wearing a campus security uniform (must be his contact inside the campus police, Stiles groggily thought) and two other people, a woman and a man, carrying satchels that turned out to be loaded with medical equipment, such as the scalpel they used to cut the arrows out of Stiles and Kira, antiseptic, gauze, painkiller, and antibiotics just in case. And for his trouble, Stiles also got a tetanus shot even though his medical records said he was up to date on it.

Hughes also must’ve brought clothes for Derek and Laura, because when Stiles finally released his death grip on Derek’s hand so Derek could help him stand, Derek was no longer naked. Stiles must’ve spoken that thought out loud because Derek blushed and Laura snickered. Troy was carried out on a stretcher. Laura helped Kira, and Derek helped Stiles.

“Can you walk?” Derek said.

“Why, gonna carry me if I can’t?” Stiles said.

“Yes,” Derek said.

Stiles put weight on his leg. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“That’s the drugs talking,” Derek said.

“I can walk,” Stiles insisted.

Five minutes later Derek carefully swung Stiles into his arms. Stiles did not protest; he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and hid his face in Derek’s shoulder and let the steady motion of Derek’s gait lull him to sleep.

When Stiles woke up he was being loaded into an SUV, then out of the SUV, and then into bed. Stiles woke up for good when the pain pill wore off. His hand was buried in thick fur, and at first Stiles’ fuzzy brain thought it was the wolf, but when he opened his eyes it was to find Doofus staring at him worriedly.

“I’m fine, Doofus,” Stiles said. He rubbed Doofus’ ears and let Doofus lick the inside of his arm.

There was a glass of water on the bed stand, along with two more pills. Stiles swallowed them with water before he attempted to get out of the bed.

“Stupid werewolf hearing,” Stiles muttered when Derek showed up in the doorway before he even had his feet on the floor.

“I heard that,” Derek said dryly, earning a snort from Stiles.

“What all did I miss?” Stiles said. “After I . . . ?”

Derek sat beside Stiles (giving Doofus as pat as he did so) and told him everything that happened after Professor Hughes’ arrival at the scene.

“What’s going to happen to Troy?” Stiles said.

Derek shook his head. “If we’d found him earlier, he could’ve been counseled, maybe mentored.”

“Like Satomi did for Scott,” Stiles said.

“Yes.”

“But?” Stiles said.

“Stiles, he’s killed three people and injured three more. If he didn’t have such self-hatred and those people had been human, he would’ve drawn the hunters to us. We’d all be in danger. He’s going to die, the only question is how.”

“I’m not feeling sorry for him,” Stiles said. “He killed Samuel, and he shot Kira, me. You. Because you jumped in front of the arrow.” Derek stared at Stiles, as if daring him to take him to task for that. “It just makes me think about how things could’ve turned out differently for Scott.”

“Troy isn’t Scott,” Derek said.

“I know,” Stiles said. He hesitated, then said, “Since we’re both not dying right now, I think we need to have that talk.”

Stiles could _see_ Derek withdrawing.

“Oh no you don’t, big guy,” Stiles said. “Talk to me. Tell me what you meant when you said you could feel me.”

“It’s a werewolf thing,” Derek said shortly.

“Tell me something I didn’t know,” Stiles said wryly. “No, seriously, tell me something I didn’t know.”

Derek glared at Stiles, then said, “We can feel strong emotions.”

“Really?” Stiles said. “From anyone? Like, even complete strangers?”

“You’re not a complete stranger,” Derek said.

“So that’s a no to anyone,” Stiles said. “Did you feel both of us?”

Derek’s jaw worked, and pink crawled up his neck. “No.”

“Just me?”

“I’ve got to check on supper,” Derek said, standing suddenly. “Are you coming?”

~*~

Stiles and Kira spent the rest of the weekend at the Hale house, recovering. Laura had taken their keys and gotten everything she could from their rooms so they could study. Stiles was still limping on Monday when Derek drove them to campus for their exams, but he’d downgraded to Advil instead of Hydrocodone, which mainly made him sleepy.

Stiles and Kira returned to the campus for the rest of the exam - slash - study period. They were minor celebrities inside their own dorm because word had gotten out in the supernatural community that the person who’d been murdering them had been caught. Stiles tried not to use his new status for evil, but he did take advantage of offers to bring him mochachinos due to his leg being sore.

Stiles also used the excuse of not being able to drive his Jeep to have Derek chauffeur him out to the farm so he could visit Doofus. On one such occasion Stiles looked over from where he was throwing a ball for Doofus to chase to find Derek regarding him oddly. “What?” Stiles said.

Derek looked away, and Stiles figured he was going to ignore the question. Two throws of the ball later, Derek spoke. “Before, when I said we couldn’t . . . I wasn’t just protecting you.”

Derek had one hundred and ten percent of Stiles’ attention now.

“I was also protecting myself.”

“Understandable,” Stiles said. “I feel like I should mention, in my defense, that I’m not Kate, either.”

Derek gave Stiles a look, then said, “I know you’re not. That’s not . . . What are your plans after graduation?”

Graduation was three years away, but Stiles already knew what his plans were – he was returning to Beacon Hills, to his dad, to Scott. He opened his mouth to speak the words, but they died on his tongue. Stiles stared at Derek, unusually silent.

Derek nodded. “That’s why. Let me know when you’re ready to go back,” Derek said, then walked away.

Stiles spent the next few days thinking about that. He had feelings for Derek. He didn’t know exactly what those feelings were, but he’d never have the opportunity to find out if he wasn’t willing to be flexible with his future. Yeah, he missed his dad dearly, and he missed Scott, but imagining a future where he left Ithaca and never saw Derek again made his chest ache unbearably.

Snippets of conversations ran through his mind, and put together with the information he had now, they made more sense. _there hasn’t been a pack to protect it in decades_ and _fix it_ and _like an emissary_ and _sometimes home isn’t a place, it’s a person_

“Jesus christ,” Stiles breathed. He took his phone out and found Satomi’s contact. “Did you send me out here to be the Hale pack emissary?” Stiles said the moment she answered.

“Hello, Stiles,” Satomi said. “It’s lovely to hear from you.”

“Hi, Satomi,” Stiles said, impatient and chagrined. “How is everything with the pack?”

“We’re doing well, thank you for asking.” There was a moment of silence after that, and Stiles just knew that Satomi was screwing with him.

“So did you?” Stiles asked.

“Did I what?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Did you send me out here to be the Hale pack emissary?” he repeated.

“Of course not,” Satomi said. After a short pause, she added, “You’d need to have a connection with the pack to be an effective emissary.”

“Shit,” Stiles swore softly.

“You haven’t formed an attachment to the Hales, have you Stiles?” Satomi said, sounding as if she already knew the answer.

“Why?” Stiles said. Why the Hales? Why not Scott?

“Scott is your best friend.”

“Yes!”

“That’s how he’ll always see you.”

“Why isn’t that enough?”

“Because Scott isn’t a human boy, and you aren’t merely his best friend. You have power, Stiles . . .”

“A spark,” Stiles said bitterly.

“It’s more than a spark. I heard what you did with the wolfsbane.”

“How did you . . . ?”

“I’m in contact with the supernatural community in Ithaca,” Satomi said.

“If you didn’t send me out here to be the Hale pack emissary, why did you send me?”

“You wanted to learn,” Satomi said, “and I wanted you to see that there are other paths your life might take.”

Stiles didn’t move from his spot sprawled over the beanbag chair until Kira knocked on the door. He thought about Scott’s support system, the reason he’d thought it would be okay to leave Beacon Hills for four years to study all the way across the country; Deaton and Satomi, Satomi’s entire pack, Scott’s mom and Allison, even Chris and Stiles’ dad. Scott didn’t _need_ Stiles, not the way Stiles needed to be needed, not the way the Hales needed him.

The next time Derek dropped Stiles off at Dickson after a visit out to the Hale place, Stiles paused before getting out of the SUV. “I’m willing to consider staying in Ithaca if you’re willing to consider seeing if this thing between us would work,” Stiles said. “Think about it,” he added, then he escaped before Derek could tell him no.

That night Stiles wondered if Derek was thinking about it as much as he was. Derek didn’t say anything, and Stiles didn’t bring it up because he really didn’t want to give Derek the opening to reject the offer. Stiles’ last exam was on Monday and he’d originally planned on beginning the long drive back to Beacon Hills on Tuesday, but he used the excuse of his still-recovering leg (to Derek) and Derek’s graduation (to his dad) to stay longer.

Laura had already offered to let Stiles store his stuff at their place so he didn’t have to cart it all back to Beacon Hills with him. When Stiles tried to feel her out about attending Derek’s graduation, Laura immediately offered to let him stay with them after his final exam.

“Have you spoken to Satomi recently?” Stiles asked when Laura was helping him to carry his boxes into the house and up to the room that had become his.

“No, why, is something wrong?” Laura said.

Stiles shook his head. “No, I just . . . what do you remember about her? Aside from the stinky tea, which she made me drink, by the way.”

Laura snickered, then turned thoughtful. “I think the thing I remember the most is how cryptic she was. Like she wanted you to figure things out for yourself.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah. I think she did that to me.” He paused, then said, “I’ve been Satomi’d.”

“What did you need to figure out?” Laura said with an astute look.

“How long have you known?” Stiles said.

“Don’t feel bad,” Laura said. “You and Derek both are pretty oblivious, so it was bound to take you a while to figure it out.”

Stiles stared out the window and absently reached down to pet Doofus. “I’m afraid.”

“Of Derek?” Laura sounded surprised and defensive.

“No, not of him, for him. What if I hurt him?”

“You won’t,” Laura said confidently.

“How do you know that?”

“Because you care enough to worry about it,” Laura said. “I think we both know that you can’t make promises, that tragedy happens, all you can do is your best.”

“And if my best isn’t good enough?”

“It will be.”

There was a soft ache in Stiles’ chest at Laura’s conviction. He shrugged it off. “It doesn’t matter. He hasn’t accepted.”

“Give him time,” Laura said.

“I’m trying.”

~*~

“When are you leaving?” Derek said.

Stiles jerked in surprise, then glared at Derek who, surprisingly, didn’t look amused at having startled him. Stiles turned back to Doofus, who was not happy about being brushed, but Laura had pulled a handful of hair out of him before handing Stiles the brush, and Stiles knew enough to not let Doofus go until he’d been thoroughly brushed.

“Monday, I guess,” Stiles said. Once commencement was over, Stiles had no excuse to stay and he really couldn’t put off returning home indefinitely while he waited for Derek to give him an answer. Maybe no answer was the answer.

“When are you coming back?”

Stiles sighed. “End of August, I guess. Why are you asking me these questions, Derek?”

Instead of answering, Derek said, “How’s your leg?”

“Fine,” Stiles said shortly. It was healed, and he had no problem walking on it, though it did ache sometimes. Stiles wasn’t sure if that was physical or mental.

Derek grabbed Stiles’ arm and pulled him to his feet. Stiles flailed and kept trying to brush Doofus even as he was dragged away from him.

“Derek, I’m supposed to be . . . !”

Derek kissed Stiles, and Stiles was so surprised by it that it took him a few seconds to wrap his head around it. Stiles moaned softly and returned the kiss. He reached up to wrap his arm around Derek’s neck only to realize he still held the brush. Stiles tossed it away and got his arm around Derek’s neck and pulled himself closer. On the periphery of his consciousness Stiles was aware of Doofus grabbing the brush in his mouth and running off with it. He was probably going to chew it apart or bury so that Laura could never find it again, or both. Stiles didn’t care what Doofus did with it, because Derek was kissing him.

Stiles could’ve kicked himself when he broke the kiss and pulled back enough to speak, but he had to know. “Wait, does this mean . . . ?”

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek said gruffly.

Stiles grinned at Derek’s grumpy expression.

“What?” Derek said warily.

“I think I’ve formed an attachment to you,” Stiles said, and then he kissed the confused expression off Derek’s face.

~*~

Stiles left Ithaca on a Monday morning. Derek was in the passenger seat beside him, and Doofus was unhappily relegated to the backseat.

After they’d kissed (which had only ended when Laura had entered the barn with the mutilated dog brush in her hand and caught them), Stiles had thought about the questions Derek had asked him. He wondered if Derek wanted him to stay, if he wanted him to come back early. The only way to find out was to ask him, so while Derek was trapped in the kitchen putting together dinner, Stiles asked.

It was like pulling teeth, but Stiles finally got some answers. Stiles couldn’t stay in Ithaca for the whole summer because he’d missed his dad and Scott a lot, but he also couldn’t stay away from Derek for the whole summer, so there had to be a middle ground. Stiles talked to Professor Hughes about signing up for a summer course. He only told Derek after he’d registered.

Derek looked gobsmacked, and then he said, “You’re going to drive all the way out to California and back in less than a month? That’s a lot of driving, and it won’t give you much time at home.”

“There’d be less driving if I knew someone who’d make the trip with me,” Stiles said.

Derek looked haunted.

“You don’t have to,” Stiles said quickly. “I know that would be hard for you, but I’d love you to meet my dad. Officially, I mean. And Scott. And I’m sure Satomi would love to see you again. Maybe she’ll give you some of that tea.”

“Alright,” Derek said.

“Wait, what? You didn’t even take any time to think about it!”

“Don’t need to.”

“That’s . . .”

“Disgustingly adorable?” Laura said.

Stiles jumped and almost fell out of the chair he’d perched in. “I’m gonna buy both of you a set of bells.”

“Will you be alright . . . ?” Derek said to Laura.

“I think I’ll be okay for a month. I’ll get Hannah to come over and help.”

“Hannah, huh?” Stiles said. He might’ve been oblivious to himself and Derek, but he’d seen the sparks fly the few times he’d been there when Hannah came out to help with the animals.

“Shut up,” Laura said.

Arrangements were quickly made. Stiles called his dad to tell him about the change in plans, using the summer course as his excuse. His dad saw right through it, but only gave Stiles a little bit of a hard time. In addition to Stiles’ summer course, Derek needed to be back for the baseball camp Cornell sponsored the last weekend of June. And Stiles didn’t want to miss Woofstock 2014: Local Rescue and Shelter Benefit, which was going to be held at the beginning of July.

Stiles sat with Laura during Saturday’s Convocation (Ed Helms was the speaker, and Stiles was more excited about that than either Derek or Laura. He resolved to make them both watch ‘The Office’ when they got back.) and Sunday’s Commencement. The weather was dry (not a given for the unusually rainy month) and a balmy 75 degrees, and Stiles was so excited for everything that the summer was going to hold for them that he didn’t even mind having to sit still for hours before he got to see Derek in the procession.

Monday morning dawned dry and warm. They didn’t have to pack the Jeep because Derek had made sure they’d done it the night before, including food, treats, toys, water, and dishes for Doofus. Derek insisted on making them breakfast before they left, which reminded Stiles of his last morning in Beacon Hills the summer before. Derek didn’t say anything when Stiles snuck up behind him and gave him a hug, resting his face against Derek’s shoulder.

Laura gave them all, including Doofus, hugs goodbye. She said, “Drive safely, you two,” then touched her hand to Derek’s face. “Take care, baby brother.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but pulled Laura into another hug, this one longer than the first.

When they were both sitting in the Jeep, Doofus drooling on Stiles’ shoulder, Stiles looked at Derek and said, “You ready?”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

Stiles was lost for words for a moment, then he said, “Everything.”

Derek leaned back in his seat and said, “What are we waiting for?”

Stiles grinned and put the Jeep into gear. As he drove down the long driveway, he said, “How do you feel about visiting the world’s largest time capsule?”

The End


	5. Notes

Notes for Chapter One:

Since I did the background research for this fic (way too much background research some might say *shifty eyes*), I’m sharing the fruits of my labor with you on the off chance you’d like to click on some of these links.

1\. The Roadtrip: the route from Beacon Hills, CA (or Eureka, since I didn’t have a better reference) to Ithaca, NY along Route 80 thanks to [Google Maps](https://www.google.com/maps/dir/Eureka,+California/Ithaca,+New+York/@35.1085724,-136.2959965,3z/am=t/data=!3m1!4b1!4m14!4m13!1m5!1m1!1s0x54d3ff83e6ff4ea7:0x2a860766b8290695!2m2!1d-124.1636729!2d40.8020712!1m5!1m1!1s0x89d08182e0af88f7:0xae52768a56ece74!2m2!1d-76.5018807!2d42.4439614!3e0) and the source of the attractions Stiles wanted to visit: [The Coolest Attractions and Stops Along I-80](https://roadtrippers.com/trips/14599610?lng=-96.67528&lat=40.80972&z=4).

 

2\. Get a feel for Cornell University Campus by checking out the Campus Map ([map](https://ideasofsouth.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/cornell-campus-map-2015-page-001.jpg) and [legend](https://i2.wp.com/ideasofsouth.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/cornell-campus-map-2015-page-002.jpg)) and [a 360 degree view of the university](https://www.google.com/maps/@42.4492616,-76.4844192,3a,75y,259h,88t/data=!3m8!1e1!3m6!1s-pPz7fZjnblE%2FV1Ackku0G9I%2FAAAAAAAAV7E%2FDG9JBpqCBUkklCwTNl89q_bxq2UEQwGUgCJkC!2e4!3e11!6s%2F%2Flh3.googleusercontent.com%2F-pPz7fZjnblE%2FV1Ackku0G9I%2FAAAAAAAAV7E%2FDG9JBpqCBUkklCwTNl89q_bxq2UEQwGUgCJkC%2Fw203-h100-k-no-pi-2.9999962-ya143.50002-ro-0-fo100%2F!7i8704!8i4352).

 

3\. Stiles’ Dorm: Some photos of the exterior of Clara Dickson Hall ([1](http://www.fs.cornell.edu/fs/facinfo/displayImage.cfm?imageId=3018), [2](https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3577/3350744642_04605413df_z.jpg?zz=1), & [3](http://austinarchitects.com/mir-s3-cdn-cf.behance.net/project_modules/hd/a3fc4620566229.562ed744a6c5c.jpg)), the [Clara Dickson Hall Residence Hall Page](https://living.sas.cornell.edu/live/wheretolive/residencehalls/Clara-Dickson-Hall.cfm), and my reference for [Stiles’ dorm room](http://rnsp.dos.cornell.edu/org/mews/Pictures) (choose the ‘Mews, Beautiful Mews’ album, then the fifth photo; I couldn’t find any dorm photos for Dickson, so I borrowed this one from Mews).

 

4\. About those gorges, waterfalls and hiking trails: [Fall Creek Gorge Image Gallery](http://www.cornellbotanicgardens.org/gallery/2296) and [Cascadilla Gorge Image Gallery](http://www.cornellbotanicgardens.org/gallery/299). (Yes, these are located right on the Cornell University campus!) Plus [a 360 view of Cascadilla Falls](https://www.google.com/maps/@42.443229,-76.4868622,3a,75y,90h,83.02t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sdJ_mIfn7-hyhYIRXEc0AsA!2e0!7i13312!8i6656).

 

5\. While the parents were there: Stiles’ dad stayed in [The Statler Hotel](http://statlerhotel.cornell.edu/), which is located on the Cornell Campus and is part of the University’s School of Hotel Administration. Here are some photos of the exterior of the hotel: [1](http://www.destination360.com/north-america/us/new-york/ithaca/ithaca-hotels-new-york.jpg), [2](https://aff.bstatic.com/images/hotel/840x460/599/59904948.jpg) & [3](http://statlerhotel.cornell.edu/resourcefiles/homeimages/the-statler-cornell-university-hotel-ithaca-new-york-1-top.jpg). (A google search brings up photos of the interior, which is gorgeous.)

They had dinner at [The Boatyard Grill](http://www.visitithaca.com/dining/boatyard-grill), which is an actual restaurant in Ithaca and is really located right on Cayuga Lake.

 

6\. This is the [2016 Orientation Guide](http://ccengagement.cornell.edu/sites/ccengagement.cornell.edu/files/rnsp/documents/orientation_guide_2016.pdf) which I used for Stiles (even though he’s attending in the fall of 2013), and a screening of Akira Kurosawa’s The Hidden Fortress (1958) at the Willard Straight Theatre was actually on the schedule!!! I was pretty excited when I read that.

 

7\. I created a major (Mythology & Folklore | Botany) and course schedules for Stiles so that I wouldn’t forget when his free periods were, etc. This is his fall schedule:

9:05-9:55 M T Th F Latin 1201 – Elementary Latin I (Arts & Sciences) (4 Credits)  
10:10-11:00 M W F ANTHR 1101 – Care of Magical Creatures (3 Credits)  
11:15-12:00 M W PE 1236 Cardio Fuego (1 credit)  
2:30-3:20 M W F ENGL1168 – Science Fiction and the Law (3 Credits)  
11:15-1:10 T Th BOT 1101 – Identifying Herbs & Their Properties (2 Credits)  
Total Credits: 13 (12 required)

I only had to ‘create’ (aka, make up) one of those courses. Can you guess which one? *g*

Here’s a photo of the schedule in table form:

[](http://imgur.com/DcCWLHs)

 

8\. [Hikes On Campus](http://www.cornellbotanicgardens.org/trails/hikes)

 

9\. I worked in the dishwasher room at college and I can attest to how hot those dishes are when they come out the other end.

 

10\. Dickson Hall hosts the [Multi-Cultural Living Learning Unit](http://living.sas.cornell.edu/live/wheretolive/programhouses/Multicultural-Living-Learning-Unit.cfm) which I have appropriated for use by supernatural students.

_McLLU, housed in Clara Dickson Hall, was founded in 1990 by a group of students who wanted to live in a community where they could learn from a culturally eclectic group of peers - a home where everyone would be welcome to share ideas, values, and experiences. This theme of open-mindedness has endured: residents continue to create an inclusive and socially just community that meets the diverse needs of a global student body._

 

11\. [Brook’s House of BBQ](http://www.brooksbbq.com/) is a ‘local’ restaurant located about an hour from where I live, and their website says they cater an average distance of 80 miles, so I figured it was do-able for them to cater this event.

Notes for Chapter Two:

12\. There really is an [Annual Apple Harvest Festival](http://www.downtownithaca.com/ithaca-events/Apple%20Harvest%20Festival%20Presented%20By%20Tompkins%20Trust) in Ithaca. (Scroll down page for activities and map.)

 

13\. This is how I imagine Stiles’ hat: [pembi toque](http://www.arcteryx.com/Product.aspx?language=EN&model=Pembi-Toque&country=US&&utm_source=googlepla&utm_medium=cse&utm_campaign=GooglePLA_Accessories%3EToques%2Band%2BBeanies%3EAll%2BRound%3E&CMPID=PSARC_GGPLA_US_ENAccessories%3EToques%2Band%2BBeanies%3EAll%2BRound%3E&gclid=CjwKEAjwl9DIBRCG_e3DwsKsizsSJADMmJ11g3Oip4qSi-6hSIUQVjO5dDvu_hGxmZf6PW4c05CCSBoC0wrw_wcB)

 

14\. [Sahara Mediterranean Restaurant](http://www.visitithaca.com/dining/sahara-mediterranean-restaurant)

 

15\. Route to the Hale place:

[](http://imgur.com/baggxTh)

 

16\. Thanksgiving with the Hales: Derek’s [wooden duck recipe holder](https://img1.etsystatic.com/105/0/10570451/il_570xN.997828889_nl1l.jpg) (my mom used to have one of these, though not as fancy), [Mince Meat Pie recipe](http://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/mincemeat-pie-filling), and [Sweet Potato Casserole recipe](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/21261/yummy-sweet-potato-casserole/). Also, you can read about alpaca birthing process [here](http://alpacasofmontana.blogspot.com/2012/05/alpaca-birthing-process.html), [here](http://alpacasofmontana.blogspot.com/2012/05/alpaca-birthing-process.html), and [here](http://www.thealpacahacienda.com/labor-and-delivery.html).

If you follow me on LJ/DW, then you might recognize Doofus because I based him on my own puppy, Ticonderoga.

 

Notes for Chapter Three:

17\. Stiles’ spring schedule:

9:05-9:55 M T Th Fr Latin 1202 – Elementary Latin II (Arts & Sciences)  
10:10–11:00 M W Fr MEDVL 1101 – Magic in Arthurian Legends  
11:15-1:10 T Th MYTH 1101 – Introduction to Mythology & Folklore  
2:30-3:20 M W Fr BOT 1102 – Medicinal Botany and Health: Injurious, Remedial and Psychoactive Plants  
3:30pm - 4:15pm T Th PE 1395 – Self Defense and Personal Safety in the Modern World

Again, only one course is ‘made-up’, can you tell which one?

Here’s a photo of the schedule in table form:

[](http://imgur.com/QVzhKp6)

 

18\. Stiles visiting Cambridge: There really is a [Border Café](http://www.bordercafe.com/). And yep, _that_ [Cheers](https://cheersboston.com/). Sort of. (We had lunch there when we visited Boston many years ago, and I have the mug to prove it. *g*)

 

19\. I used the actual [2014 baseball schedule](http://www.cornellbigred.com/schedule.aspx?schedule=638) for the story.

 

20\. Here are some photos of Hoy Field: [1](http://wac.b63f.edgecastcdn.net/80B63F/cornellbigred-com/common/controls/image_handler.aspx?thumb_prefix=rp_primary&image_path=/images/2007/7/30/Hoy.jpg) & [2](http://www.astroturf.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/IMG_1647_8_9_fused.jpg)

 

21\. Here are some links if you wanna know how to [score a baseball game](https://www.thoughtco.com/how-to-score-a-baseball-game-319934) or about college teams traveling for away games: [1](http://www.cougcenter.com/2012/9/13/3327812/wsu-vs-unlv-travel-notes) & [2](http://www.stltoday.com/sports/college/how-college-teams-travel/article_f594aaf2-5a2b-5e1c-b1f8-0d3f2ccef342.html).

 

Notes for Chapter Four:

22\. This actually happened: [SHU Baseball Moves Weekend Series](http://www.sacredheartpioneers.com/sports/m-basebl/2013-14/releases/20140320lib94a). I knew Stiles would be excited to play at [MCU Park](http://www.brooklyncyclones.com/mcupark/mcupark/), _the centerpiece of historic Coney Island_.

 

23\. This is [Murray Field](http://www.brownbears.com/athletics/facilities/Murray_Stadium/index) at Brown University, where Lydia met up with Stiles to watch ~~Derek~~ Big Red play.

 

24\. [This](http://www.charmsoflight.com/birthstones/aries.html) is where I found the information on the stones Lydia gives Stiles for his birthday. Also, the Blue Room Café is real.

 

25\. [Ithaca Trails dot org](https://ithacatrails.org/) really does host guided hikes during the month of April. One of the hikes Stiles and Kira go on is to [Stevenson Forest Preserve](http://www.fllt.org/preserves/stevenson-forest-preserve/).

 

26\. The ‘May the Fourth Be With You’ Star Wars Themed Menu is a real thing! This is part of the announcement that appeared on the Cornell website:

_We're celebrating the annual holiday for Star Wars fans with a special dinner menu at Risley Dining Room!_

_Our Sithwich Station will feature Kanjiclub and Darth Maul sandwiches, and Rey's portion bread. The grill will be a wing bar, offering X-Wings (habanero-blackberry), A-Wings (garlic parmesan), Y-Wings (honey BBQ), and Tie Fighters (Thai green curry)._

_Don't miss the Chip & Dip Station with Seven Leia Dip, Sith Salsa, and Ewokamole. Drinks will include Chava Chava and Yartigan Well Water, and the Dessert Bar will have Darth by Chocolate Cupcakes, R2-D2 Cupcakes, and BB-8 Cupcakes._

_The evening will feature a special performance by Ring of Steel, performing Light Saber Battles!_

 

27\. [This](https://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/6458254/il_fullxfull.321358653.jpg) is how I imagine Laura’s white wolf. While I was looking at photos of white wolves, I came across [this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fe/2e/51/fe2e51363731d7f33b6a382cf1c9b8c6.jpg) image of a black wolf and white wolf and now it’s my go-to for Derek and Laura together.

 

28\. Cornell really does sponsor a [baseball camp](http://cornellcamps.com/boys-camps/baseball) for both boys and girls.

 

29\. [Woofstock](https://www.facebook.com/events/982702188532055/) is also real, though I changed the date because I didn’t want Stiles to miss it, either.

 

30\. Ed Helms really did give the Convocation speech in 2014:


End file.
